


Unintentional Attachment

by HerLoyalShipper



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Drug Abuse, Fluff, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Self-Harm, Teenlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-01 15:41:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 28,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4025500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerLoyalShipper/pseuds/HerLoyalShipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is the new kid, The stragnly handsome quiet new kid who happens to sit next to John in chemistry one morning. There wasn't love at first sight and as always a relationship with Sherlock is going to come with some serious baggage.<br/>John teaches Sherlock it is okay to be himself and someone (namely John) will love him for it. Sherlock teaches John that he can't live his life in his father's or his sisters shadows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

John’s POV:

It was just a usual day for John. He woke up ridiculously early for a teenage boy and before the sun had risen had trained with the rest of the footy team and hit the showers as the rest of the schools inhabitants began to rise. As usual he skipped breakfast content with just a cup of tea before rushing off to his classes. Today was just an average ordinary normal day until chemistry class. He had run into Sarah on the way from lunch to chemistry and after much manipulation and downright lying through his teeth he had managed to extract himself from her octopus like grasp to only be 5 minutes tardy. He walked in mumbled an excuse to the teacher who by now was used to his lateness to his class and trudged his way to the back of the class where he had a desk all to himself except today he wasn't alone.

This beautiful stranger had a mop or dark curly hair which just brushed his high prominent cheekbones. When the head turned and piercing green eyes connected with his baby blue his breath hitched and he had to remind himself that he had a straight reputation to uphold. Coming out as gay at a catholic boarding school would be bad. They would try to exercise him or something.

John averted his eyes to the front of the class and tried in vain the listen and understand what the teacher was saying. But his lack of understanding in chemistry mixed with the absolute Adonis which was perched beside him. The class went on and on. The teacher rambling on the properties of mono and disaccharides. John tried so hard to focus on the class and not on his bodily reaction to this perfect stranger. 

He was concentrating so much that he missed the bell signaling the end of class and it wasn’t until the stranger brushed past him and he got a whiff of cigarette smoke, cinnamon, and a delicious musk, that he snapped to attention and started shoving his book and papers into his backpack. John craned his neck from his position at the back of his English class to spot a mop of black curls but was out of luck. 

It wasn't until the next morning in his advanced math class that John spotted his gorgeous stranger again. John knew he sucked at math and chemistry but he needed these classes get into medical school. 

The stranger once again sat in the empty seat next to John’s usual chair. No one sat at the back of his classes because they wanted good grades. John on the other hand had a reputation to uphold. Even though his team mates knew he did this class to get into med school and congratulated him on his ambition but he had a baddass demeanour to uphold for the rest of the school.

John sat down with time to spare fortunate he had not run into Sarah on the way to math, this and English were the only classes that John had with Sarah and was always grateful when he didn't run into her that morning or he would have been late. It was still 5 minutes until class started when Sarah walked in and immediately seeing John sidled up to him draping herself around him ignoring his discomfort. 

"Jooohhnn..." Sarah whined, causing John to flinch. "Why didn't you come see me before class John?"

"Come on Sarah class is about to start," John tried his usual distraction technique. It never worked but he always felt so bad to outright reject girls.

"Come one John come sit with me, I'll make it worth it." she said with what John assumed was a coy sand seductive smile. 

John was about to reply when he heard a rather put upon sigh before a baritone voice said. "It’s quite obvious that John doesn't want to sit with you. I know it must be difficult in your hormone haze but he has done nothing but push you away since you walked into the class his leaning away from you, not participating in your octopus like cuddling, no change in respiration due to proximity no pupil dilation. He is not interested in you so can you go away." 

"Shut up freak no one asked your opinion. Come on John." Sarah tugged on his arm but all John could do was stare at the boy who's looked like ice and had a voice like honey.  
"No Sarah, and you can't talk to him like that." John tugged his arm out of her grip.

"Seriously you gonna sit with this freak who just insulted you," Sarah scoffed.

"He just told you what you would already know if you bothered to open your eyes and stop calling him that. He isn't a freak. He's my friend." John had no idea what possessed him to defend this handsome almost stranger but too late to back out now.

"Fine," she stomped away but already he could see the school social system working shunning her slightly for her rejection from the footy captain. He thought it was almost sad how the school worked.

"You didn't have to tell her were friends." the stranger whispered into his arms which were folded on the desk his head resting in them.

"Yeah well she was way out of line. I'm John." John plopped down next to him copying his position. 

"I know.” he says simply.

"So what's your name?” John prompts when it looks like he isn't going to say anything else.

"Uh," the other boy hesitates, "Sherlock."

"It’s nice to meet you Sherlock," John said.

"You don't have to pretend to like me," Sherlock snapped as the teacher walked in calling silence to the classroom.

Sherlock rushed out of the class in his haste leaving he left a few papers on the desk which John hastily collected. They had chemistry last that day so he decided to give them back then. John tuned out for most of the day and during biology found himself doodling Sherlock’s name in the margins of his workbook instead of writing the droning monolog of the teacher.

John found himself sitting with his footy mates they all congratulated him on his split from Sarah. Apparently none of them had liked her very much. They also commended him on sticking up for the new kid. They weren’t all bad blokes and most of them were quite friendly behind their scary demeanors. John liked them, they were honest but loyal and if he said Sherlock was okay they would leave him alone. Since finding out the other hoys name he had asked around and found out that the new kid already had a reputation for being loud obnoxious rude arrogant. He had also heard they boy was actually a few years younger than them. He was apparently a genius. 

Sherlock’s POV:

Sherlock found himself surrounded by at least half a dozen boys in motorcycle jackets. He had unfortunately deduced that the head biker had spent the weekend painting nails with his 7 year older sister and her best friend because of the small trace of nail polish he still had on his left pinkie. He had just been sitting on the quad reading his bee ecology book hen the boys had come over and knocked the book right out of his hands calling him a freak. Sherlock had gotten better since coming to this school to avoid fights because his brother had made it quite clear that this was his last chance before he was to be shipped off to a rather stringent all boys boarding school where their uncle was a prestigious headmaster and none of his antics would be tolerated. He hadn't meant to deduce them it had just all started coming out like a defense mechanism. 

"Just because you’re a freak doesn't mean you can make shit up about others to make you feel better. I'll smash your face in for that." the boy was rather tall and 2 years older than Sherlock as well as having at least 20 pounds more muscle, it was likely that he could indeed smash Sherlock’s face as he put it. 

Sherlock's mind reeled with deductions of an abusive home neglectful mother the kid having to raise his little sister and trying to get good grades he can manage to get into a reasonable college. Sherlock almost felt badly for the guy before his fist connected to his face just missing breaking his nose and throwing Sherlock to the ground with the force of it. Sherlock looked up just in time to see a hand grab at the collar of his shirt and lift him to his feet. Sherlock was just as tall as the greaser so the guy had the raise his hand slightly to pull the collar taunt around Sherlock’s neck. The boys other fist drew back and connected with Sherlock’s face again, Sherlock had the peace of mind to turn his head slightly so the blow hit is prominent cheekbone instead of his nose. One of his hands clutching at the hand holding his collar, the other pushing at the boy holding him. He was hoisted up by the collar again his toes just scrapping the ground and his airways cut off his mind was fogging and his grip slipped and faltered. Suddenly he was being dropped to the ground and the greaser who had been holding him landed moments later a bloody nose nursed in his hands.

John’s POV:

John had been sitting under a tree near the bleachers two days after the Sarah incident, he had given Sherlock back his math notes and Sherlock had thanked him which had a few people staring at them till Sherlock deduced how the head cheerleader was getting a little more than tutored 3 days a week by the math’s geek in the front row and everyone turned back towards the front of the chemistry class. John had just enough time to utter brilliant before the teacher started his lecture. Things had gone back to normal and John even had sort of conversation with Sherlock before math class that morning. That was until Mike Stanford, a geeky boy who shared John’s goal of med school, rushed up to them panting doubled over obviously having run across the school.

"What is it Mike?" John was lazing around after a rather productive football practice. 

"Its Sherlock he's being picked on by a bunch of greasers by the quad one of them looks like he's gonna hit him." John shot to his feet. His mates teased him about his protective streak of Sherlock but they all flanked him as he hurried, trying to not look to eager, to the quad. There was a ring of people surrounding two people. John and his mates shoulder their way into the middle of the fight to see a greaser holding Sherlock up by the collar cutting off his airways. 

John stepped up towards them and just as the greaser turned to him loosening the grip on Sherlock’s collar he pulled his fist back and broke the greaser’s nose. Sending him sprawling to the ground in a bloody pile. John’s mates now were holding the other greasers back and it looked like it might turn into an all-out brawl. A fight between the footy lads and the greasers would be school gossip for weeks and they couldn't afford the detentions with a big game coming up. So john dragged Sherlock into a semi standing position with an arm around him and steadied the other boy.

"Come on guys, leave the greasers alone. I need you all out of detention for our game this weekend.” John called to his teammates while already half carrying Sherlock back to the bleachers thankful no teachers were involved in the incident. 

"Are you okay Sherlock?" John asked.

“m’kay,” Sherlock mumbled not meeting any of the footy team’s eyes. 

“Sherlock, why was he beating you up?” 

“Cause he lets his sister paint his nails on the weekend because his mother left his father because he used to beat him and that’s why he turned to the greaser stereotype to appear tougher in case his dad comes back. His mums not around a lot she works a lot.” Sherlock started sprouting deductions. “Plus he didn’t want to look weak in front of his boyfriend.” 

“Wait he has a boyfriend? I didn’t know Steve was gay.” Haden one of John’s footy mates chimed in.

Sherlock raised his head slightly to, John assumed, assess the boy. He had seen Sherlock do this many a times in classes and sometime he could catch the tail end of his whispered observations. 

“Well it’s not like it would be easy to be a homosexual, this is a very strict Christian boarding school. I would assume that most people keep their relationships a secret so they are not subjected to hours of therapy and meetings with father Brian.” Sherlock’s gaze drifted over John. John froze their eyes meeting for a split second before Sherlock’s gaze drifted away. Oh god he knew. Of course he knew, he was Sherlock, brilliant and slightly mad Sherlock. John was screwed, Sherlock knew he was gay and Sherlock bless his soul could not keep his mouth shut to save his life, see their current situation for proof.

“Come on Sherlock we should get you to the nurse.” John sighed next to Sherlock with a forlorn expression.

“Can’t.” was Sherlock’s short reply.

“Why not? You need to have that bruising look after, do you hurt anywhere else?” John was looking at Sherlock, assessing him for any possible injury. 

“Can’t go to the nurse. She’ll tell my brother and he will take me away again.” Sherlock mumbled so low John almost didn’t hear him. John’s heart stopped. What did Sherlock mean by that? His brother would take him away again. John was pretty sure that the nurse wouldn’t tell anyone because it was her job to keep secrets and stuff but if Sherlock thought his brother might try take him away John wouldn’t make him go.

“Okay come on then. I can patch you up in my room, I only got biology after this and a free period so it doesn’t matter if I skip.” John helped Sherlock to his feet who now that the adrenaline was out of his system he swayed and john had to catch him around his waist to keep him upright.

Some of the footy boys jeered at them but John just flipped them the bird good naturedly and trudged across campus with Sherlock wrapped tightly in his arms.


	2. 221B Baker Hall

Sherlock’s POV:

Sherlock stumbled slightly and was rather unceremoniously dumped onto a soft bed. His head was still hazy but he could now feel his full mental capacity coming back. Sherlock looked around the room. Clean room, almost military, drilled into him from a young age. Military family, obvious, Christian obvious, dysfunctional… yes. A picture of John with his arms around an older girl, Sister, a phone on the bedside table, scratches around the charger slot, engraving on the back. A gift, not for John, who is Harry, father, unlikely, the sister, Harry... Harriet? Alcoholic obviously, estranged from family most likely, Clara unlikely to be a friend so girlfriend. Gay? Must run in the family. Estranged for her alcoholism which happened after the split from Clara. Alcoholism attributed to her lack of suitable romantic partner. No wonder he doesn't want people to know he is gay. Raised by a single mother from a young age, maybe 7 or 8, old enough not to hold her beliefs but young enough to see her as their sole guardian. So… dad left young? No. John has no problems with authority or older males so no lingering effects from a missing father. So dead? The military stance he holds looks to be a lifelong habit so not something he started since deciding to join the military. So most likely answer John’s father died approximately 10 years ago while serving his country. 

The only question was...

"Afghanistan or Iraq?" Sherlock queried.

"Uh... What?" John was rightfully stumped by the question. He paused from his rummaging through his first aid kit to look up at Sherlock.  
"Your dad, was it Afghanistan or Iraq?" 

"What, how.... How did you know about dad?" the sentence was choked out. So it was still a touchy subject Sherlock thought. 

"Military sheets, clean tidy personality and you tend to stand in parade stance. You don't have any pictures of your parents and it is obvious you were brought up religiously and with a women’s touch. The scented soaps and fluffy jumpers. So no father but an attraction to the military regime. He must have died what 9, 10 years ago? So Afghanistan or Iraq?" Sherlock deduced quickly. 

"Afghanistan... That was bloody brilliant, bit creepy but amazing. How did you know all that stuff?" Johns face lit up which took Sherlock back for a moment. No one, not even mummy had said his deductions were amazing. Mycroft put up with them at best and everyone else hated them and him. John had heard him make deductions before, when he was bored or someone was particularly annoying him but never had he deduced John out loud. He was admittedly nervous of his reaction, brilliant was not what he expected form the Footy captain.

"I.... That’s not what most people say" Sherlock looked down awkwardly not ready to admit to the boy that most people hate him. He didn’t know why he cared what John thought of him. Sentiment. Stupid.

"What do most people say?" John prompts him.

"Piss off mostly." Sherlock laughed dryly and without humour.

Johns face cracked though and soon enough he was laughing hysterically form his place kneeling between Sherlock’s legs.

“Well, I am not most people Sherlock. Now let’s get that bruising looked at. I think I have some cream that will help with it and I need to clean the cut above your eye. Don’t want it getting infected.” John got up and went to the adjoining bathroom, returning with a wet cloth.

John had cleaned up all the blood and rubbed some funny smelling cream into the bruises around Sherlock’s neck and on his jaw. Sherlock for the most part just sat there in his mind palace trying his hardest the not react to the touch. His whole childhood had consisted of less physical contact than this so he was feeling off kilter by John’s soft touches and quiet murmuring. John really would make a fine doctor. His bedside manner was exquisite and his hands held just the right amount of pressure to be comforting without hurting his bruised skin.

Sherlock was quietly organising the new room he had made in his mind palace labelled John which since first seeing the boy had expanded from a corner room to a whole wide space crammed full of everything John.

“Come on Sherlock I need you to take your shirt off so I can check your ribs.” John’s words broke through to Sherlock and he jerked out of his trance to see John’s hands at the buttons of his white school shirt which was stained horribly with dirt and blood. Sherlock started to panic.

“Their fine not broken you really don’t have to.” Sherlock argued feebly. John couldn’t see him without his shirt on, then he would know and he wouldn’t want to talk to Sherlock or touch Sherlock anymore. Sherlock was just starting to like being in John’s presence, never in his life had he wanted to spend time with someone just to be in their presence. Sherlock couldn’t lose that.

“Sherlock you can’t know that if you don’t let me check. I know you probably already deduced I’m gay and I promise this isn’t a trick to see you shirtless. I do however want to make sure you are completely fine. So please can I check your ribs?” Sherlock couldn’t let him. He couldn’t John would notice he knew he would. Plus no one had seen him shirtless since Victor. He just shook his head violently not even able to voice his thoughts. The panic was rising up in him now and flashes of memories were forcing their way to the forefront of his mind.

Take them off Sherly

No wonder no one wants to be with you Sherly.

Stupid little Sherly.

Sherlock was floored unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to tear his mind away from the taunting images in his head. He needed a hit, but everything was in his room, he needed his drugs in blade anything. Sherlock’s body caught up with his mind and before John could protest he was sprinting down the hall and out of the building towards his own dorm room.

John’s POV:

Sherlock had just left. He just up and left, running for his life like John was some kind of pedophile who wanted to attack him. John was utterly confused by Sherlock’s reaction and try as he might to convince himself it wasn’t his fault, it just wasn’t in John’s nature to not shoulder the blame. He had pushed the kid, and as John did he realized just how young and fragile Sherlock actually was. John was one of the oldest kids in his grade already being 18 but he often forgot that Sherlock was so much younger than him. John mentally kicked himself as he lay down on the bed Sherlock had previously been sitting on and resigned himself to apologizing when he saw him tomorrow in math’s.   
Although he next day came and went and Sherlock didn’t attend a single class and when John went to ask Mike if he had seen him he said Sherlock hadn’t been in his physics or English class either. No one had seen the boy all day and that was when John started to worry although his worry turned into full blown panic when Sherlock missed both the morning math and afternoon chemistry class the two days later.

John had run out of patience and did something he would not normally do. He went to the library. He knew, form mike that Sherlock spent a great deal of time in the Library and maybe John would find him there or at least someone who could tell John where he was. John felt so out of place walking in, all eyes seemed to follow him but when he turned to look the occupants all had their heads in books or newspapers reading. John made his way to an underclassman who was around Sherlock’s age he assumed. This was the person Mike had told him to talk to. Molly Hooper he had said. She is Sherlock’s biggest fan, always knows his comings and goings. Which was sort of creepy if you asked John but he guessed it was okay if it told him where he could find Sherlock.

“Um, Excuse me Molly?” John asked awkwardly in a hushed whisper.

“Oh, sorry I get caught up in my reading sometimes. What c-can I help you with.” Molly looked up at John, motioning for him to take the seat next to him. She wore   
“I’m looking for Sherlock. Do you know where I can find him?” John asked .

“Oh, well if you’re just trying to pick on him. I can’t help you. You’re all the same you know just because he’s a little different doesn’t mean he’s a freak or whatever you guys all call him. He isn’t.” Molly was practically yelling and all eyes were suddenly on them.

“Molly I’m not… I’m not going to make fun of him or tease him or anything. Sherlock’s my friend. I’m just worried because he hasn’t been to classes for a few days. I just want to check and make sure everything is alright. I’m worried.” John gives Molly his most sincere smile.

“Oh well he hasn’t left his room for a few days. I don’t know why. He just text me the other day to ask me to get his homework and leave it by the door.” 

“Oh well can you tell me where is room is. I really do wanna check to see if he is okay.” John gave her another winning smile and placed a hand over hers to show his sincerity.  
“Oh okay. His room is 221B Baker Hall. The fancy one you know. Make sure he’s okay and don’t tell him I told you.” Molly went back to her book.

Baker hall is like a mansion. I didn’t know anyone who lived here it was the posh gits who usually had their dorm rooms here paid for by mummy and Daddy. Sherlock didn’t seem like the type of kid who had money. Well obvious that he did because of his clothes but he never once flaunted the fact. The rooms were more like little apartments with a small kitchen and living area connected to a bedroom bigger than his whole room and bathroom attached. He only knew because he had longingly looked at them when he had first been deciding which dorm to stay in. They looked like a palace compared to his but then he didn’t think he could stand living with such posh gits. Also he definitely couldn’t afford them. He could barely afford his rent as it was.

John was greeted by an elderly lady who introduced herself as Mrs Hudson when he walked into Baker Hall.

“I’m err. Looking for 221B?” He asked nervously. The woman just assessed him before giving him a warm smile.

“Ah yes, Sherlock, he never gets visitors. So nice to see he has friends. Should I be getting you tea or maybe a light snack? You of course will be staying for dinner I assume.” Mrs Hudson talked excitedly.

“Umm I’m not sure mam I just want to see Sherlock he wasn’t in class today.” 

“Oh yes, he’s been sick, up all night sleeping all day. That boy needs to sort himself out. I’m just glad his brother sent him here first. He needs some caring that’s all. Right this way.” Mrs. Hudson bustled up a set of stairs motioning for John to follow her. John frowned at her comment. What was with Sherlock’s brother? What was with Sherlock? John filed these comments away for later evaluation. Right now he had to make sure Sherlock was alright. When they were in front of 221B Mrs Hudson unlocked the door and called out for Sherlock who groaned form his position on the couch. Arm thrown over his head a blue dressing gown wrapped around his body. There was paper everywhere books strewn across the floor and something bubbling away on the stove which smelt a bit like dirty socks. 

“Sherlock your friend is here to see you. I’ll just leave you two to it.” Mrs Hudson gave John a little wink which just confused John even more.  
“I don’t have friends,” Was Sherlock’s muffled call after her. He didn’t even look up or move.

“Sherlock?” John questioned which got a reaction from the other man. He scrambled up from his half curled up position on the leather couch to face John. His eyes red rimmed like he had been crying or form lack of sleep John didn’t know. 

“Why… Why are you here?” Sherlock cleared his throat pulling at the arms of his robe so they covered his hands just the tip of his fingers sticking out.

“I wanted to check on you. You haven’t been to class and...” John trailed off.

“Obviously I haven’t been to class these bruises would have been hard to explain away.” Sherlock waved his hand towards his neck and face. 

“Oh yeah. Of course. I just…” John trailed off again. Not really sure why he was worried after all. 

“Is that all?” Sherlock stated in a bored sounding voice.

“Oh yeah. Just wanted to make sure we are cool. So yeah.” John cursed inwardly. 

“Yes John we are, how you say, cool. I’m sorry for my abrupt leaving the other day. I uh, it happens sometimes. I’m sorry for upsetting you.” John’s eyes went wide. He had never heard Sherlock apologise before. Not when he made Susan cry in chemistry nor when he John had to hold Jason off Sherlock in the hallway when he had run into him. Never when Sherlock had been annoying or deduced something nasty without realising it. But here he was apologising for upsetting John. It somehow warmed John’s heart.

“Don’t worry. I pushed you too hard. It’s okay to be uncomfortable. I get caught up in things like that.” John offers.

“It’s okay John.” Sherlock is still standing there awkwardly and John takes pity on the younger boy.

“Do you want to go get something to eat? Your… Whatever Mrs Hudson is, asked if I was going to stay for Dinner and I don’t know about you but I don’t wanna have dinner with these posh wankers.” John chuckled to himself at the surprise and delight on Sherlock’s face.

“Uh yeah just let me get dressed.” Sherlock hurried off before stopping and looking back at him his cheeks flushed slightly and walking towards his bedroom at a more subdued pace.


	3. date, not a date

Sherlock’s POV:

Sherlock is sitting in the passenger’s seat of John’s car mentally hyperventilating. He had taken some time to come to terms with his irrational sentiment towards John. He kept trying to remind himself that caring is not an advantage but that didn’t work before and it wasn’t working now. Usually he didn’t care, usually it was easy to disregard people as unimportant and boring but not John. This feeling of butterflies in his stomach, head spinning like he couldn’t get enough oxygen to his brain. Mind hazy but focused at the same time. He had only ever felt this once before. Not all that long ago, he mused, with Victor. The same heart clenching soul retching sentiment which pushed him into the possibly worst thing that had ever happened to him. 

Sherlock couldn’t let himself think of Victor. He didn’t want to taint any experience with John by thinking of that subject. Sherlock liked John. That much he could admit to himself. Sherlock didn’t have friends and now he had John. Remarkable, John. Surprisingly not boring John. John who had stood up for him numerous times when people tried to pick on him, who broke a greasers nose for hurting him and in the same day treated Sherlock with such care. John cared, Sherlock could see it as clear as day, he cared about Sherlock. The question Sherlock couldn’t answer was, why. But maybe if he never asked that elusive question they could go on being friends. They could spend time outside class together like they were now. Sherlock’s heart beat a little faster at the prospect. 

John was his friend which meant he could never find out Sherlock’s secret. He could not know the reasons Sherlock had locked himself away for three days straight. He could never see the marks and the scars. John could never know or he would leave. Sherlock knew he would. Sherlock would do anything in his power to make sure John stayed. 

“Do you like Italian? There is this little restaurant just a few blocks away called Angelo’s and I hear it’s good.” John was looking over at Sherlock expectantly. Sherlock actually did know Angelo’s, he had solved a case for him a year ago and he got cheap meals whenever he went. Sherlock often got cases form his brothers boyfriend. He worked for NSY and occasionally gave Sherlock the cases he couldn’t crack. After Mycroft found out about Victor and the drugs though he stopped getting murders and was only occasionally called in for thefts or other petty crimes.

“Yeah Angelo’s is great I know the owner. We should go.” Sherlock maybe could tell John about his work. Maybe John would like that Sherlock thought he might. John who craved adventure, who played football and wanted to join the army. John might like the work and this just excited Sherlock further.

Sherlock could see John glancing at him across the table. It had been slightly awkward when Angelo had whisked them away into a private booth and given them a candle. This wasn’t a date, well as far a Sherlock could tell it wasn’t. John seemed equally embarrassed and Sherlock could see him glancing around to see if anyone from school was here. Since it was a Thursday afternoon most people were off shopping or studying depending on the peer group in which they socialised.

“So how is the football team,” Sherlock cringed at how awkward that sounded. He truly had no idea how to converse with normal people. He missed his dad in that way. He had always known social protocols and how to get along. He was a lot like John in that way. Always knowing the right thing to say.

“Do you actually care or were you just asking because the silence is awkward?” John replied licking at his dry lips, which immediately caught Sherlock’s attention.

“I… no not really. I don’t know anything about football.” Sherlock flushed again. He really hated feeling like this, but then again he never wanted this to stop either.

“Well come to our game Saturday and you can use that brilliant brain of yours to figure it out.” John grinned at him.

“You think I’m brilliant?” 

“Of course you daft git. Every time you deduce or whatever you call it. I don’t know how you do that. It’s amazing.”

“I guess I could try explain it to you, but only if after your game you explain football to me.” Sherlock wasn’t really interested in learning about football but he was interested about learning about John and John loved rugby so it couldn’t be all that bad.

“Okay who can you deduce for me?” John sat up a little straighter almost as if he was excited, interested. Sherlock looked at him pensively for a moment before looking around the room letting his mind deduce the people around him.

The couple to your left, the woman is having an affair with that man and her husband has recently found out. She is considering leaving him for her new lover.” Sherlock deduced about the woman.

“How on earth do you know that?” john asked incredulously.

“Well there is a slight tan where her wedding ring should be, faded but present meaning she has been married for year before the affair started. Not wearing the ring indicates that she had either lost it or the man she is dinning with is not her husband. She is flirting ridiculously with the man so one can assume lover and only touching him with her right hand. So she doesn’t want him to notice her ring tan. The pieces of hair that are falling form her bun suggest that she is under a lot of stress, that and her nails which she chews. But she isn’t nervous now so she can’t be nervous about the affair she is having suggesting the husband already knows of the affair and she is worried about her impending divorce.” Sherlock looks up at John a little nervously to see his reaction to his deductions. He has never had someone ask how he deduces and he was a little apprehensive as to John’s reaction.

“Wow,” John was staring at Sherlock wide eyed his mouth hanging slightly open. “You see all that,” Sherlock just shrugged. He had always seen the world like that, the little things adding up to make a bigger picture. Everything just a mystery waiting to be solved.

“I… yeah.” Sherlock just looked at his hands in his lap a little embarrassed. He knew he wasn’t normal. The way he saw everything. He knew it wasn’t normal to be the way he was and for once that bothered him. It hadn’t when Mycroft had friends and he didn’t it didn’t bother him when mummy sent him away to boarding school after his father left. It didn’t bother him when he got picked on or teased or shoved around but now in the romantically light diner it bothered him that he wasn’t normal and it was all because of John.

“Hey don’t do that, what you do is amazing. Brilliant even. Don’t be ashamed of it. It’s part of who you are and I like that about you. Like as a friend and all.” Sherlock smile slightly at the awkward ending to that sentence. Sherlock was saved from having to continue on that conversation by their diner being served. They ate in silence just enjoying each other’s company. 

“Sherlock?” John asked while they walked back to his car. 

“Mmm,” was Sherlock’s reply. 

“How old are you?” Sherlock tensed before replying.

“What kind of a question is that? Why should it matter?” His manner becoming stiff. He sat upright in the seat staring stoically out the window and John pulled out form the curb and on their way back.

“Hey don’t be like that. We are friends now. Proper friends, I was just curious because I heard you skipped a few grades that was all. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” John reassured him.

Sherlock looked over at John cautiously seeing honesty in his eyes. What did he do to deserve John? He was rude and arrogant and downright unpleasant to be around but somehow John didn’t think so. John liked spending time with him and on top of that tried very hard to make sure he was comfortable.

“I’m 15, my birthdays in May.” Sherlock looked at his hands again.

“So you’ll be 16 soon. That’s cool. I turned 18 in Februrary so…” John trailed off shrugging.

“Do you mind that I’m a bit younger than you?” Sherlock asked mentally kicking himself at the way that question sounded but John ever the carer chose not to mention it.  
“Nah. I don’t think age should really matter all that much.” Sherlock was thankful that John didn’t care because he was becoming disturbingly attached to this man and so help him his opinion mattered to Sherlock.

“Here we are,” John had pulled up outside baker hall.

“Yes, here we are indeed.” Sherlock looked up at Baker Hall contemplatively.

“I’ll see you in class tomorrow?” John asked obviously trying to prolong the inevitable.

“Yeah Probably… I’ll be there.” Sherlock looked once more at John before adding, “Thank you for… well for everything.” Sherlock gave John one of his rare honest smiles before exiting the car and walking up the steps of Baker Hall.

Once carefully locked away in his room Sherlock took the drugs he had hidden in his bedroom and threw them into the fire. He didn’t know what possessed him to do this but he knew that he had to get clean for John. If he ever found out about Sherlock’s habit he would be so disappointed in him. Sherlock gathered all his blades as well but couldn’t bring himself to chuck them. He couldn’t quite give himself a clean slate but he would try to be better for John. Sherlock hadn’t felt this with Victor, hadn’t felt the need to be better for him like he did with John. Victor had started this and somehow John was going to end it. Victor broke Sherlock that much he could admit in the privacy of his own head. So John Sherlock mused could fix him again, it could be that simple right? Victor started the drug use and the self-inflicted abuse, John could stop it. Sherlock hoped he could before it was too late.


	4. School and a Football match

John’s POV:

The next day it was like everything went back to normal. John saw Sherlock in the hall before his biology class and smiled at him reassuringly. Sherlock’s lips twitched like he was trying very hard not to smile back. This caused John to have a stupid grin plastered to his face all morning. He found Sherlock at lunch and convinced him, well asked and Sherlock agreed, to sit out behind the bleachers with the rugby lads.

“So Sherlock, you and John huh?” John over hears Nathan ask as he was busy trying to correct Haden’s English homework before their next class. 

“Me and John what? That wasn’t even a proper sentence.” John could see Sherlock physically suppress the urge to tell Nathan he was an idiot which to be fair Nathan was.

“Are you serious dude? Like are you that dumb… And you call us idiots. We know you are boning each other. It’s so fucking obvious. I mean why else would he be so protective. We have brains too you know and we see what’s going on. Mind you we don’t care, we love John he’s our mate and our captain, the lads just what you to know that we know and we support you.” Sherlock’s face went white as a sheet and he made a choking noise, before anyone could react John decided he was sick of pretending not to be listening and step in.

“Hey Nathan. What the fuck. We are not together, we are just friends. Don’t freak the kid out.” John went over to where Sherlock was having a minor panic attack and stroked his hair, calming him.

~~~~ 

After school John found Sherlock leaning against his locker texting away on his phone, deep in concentration.  
“Hey Sherlock,” John greeted him but got no reply, Sherlock just continued to text away a little frown marring his perfect face. John just got what he needed form his locker to do his chemistry and maths that weekend after the game. He remembered that Sherlock promised he would come to it tomorrow. He had practice this afternoon he needed to get to.

“Are you still coming to the game tomorrow night?” Sherlock again did not reply. John was just standing there watching him text, not sure if he was even listening to him.

“Yeah he does that sometimes,” John heard someone say. He turned to find Molly standing in the almost empty hallway.  
“Uh, thanks Molly, Does, he zone out like this often?” 

“Not much, must be really interesting whatever he is thinking about. I’ve only seen him do it like 3 times. We should probably exchange numbers,” Molly said with a smile. She really was a sweet girl even if she was barking up the wrong tree with Sherlock. As far as John could tell he didn’t have feels like that for anyone. Then again John was currently also barking up that tree so he couldn’t really talk.

“Uh why?” 

“It would save you having to come find me the next time you want to know where he is silly. Plus you’re good at biology right? Maybe we could study together sometime. I can’t quite get the hang of how the lungs function.” John could see where she was coming from. So he agreed plus it wasn’t as if he didn’t like Molly.  
Like he said she was a sweet girl.

Sherlock suddenly gasped and his eyes went wide shifting from his phone to John and back before a huge grin spread across his face. He flung his arms around John suddenly kissing him on the cheek before rushing out of the corridor towards the entrance of the school. John could only stand there and try to process what had just happened. 

Are you coming to the game tomorrow :) – JW 8:23pm Friday

Of course I promised I would – SH 9:46 pm Friday

Good. Night – JW 9:47pm Friday

Goodnight– SH 3:25 am Saturday

John was kitted out in his rugby gear at 5pm the next day surrounded by his team mates giving what he believed to be a kick ass pep talk. He had seen Sherlock in the stands and his stomach did a flip then immediately sunk when he saw him sitting with Molly. It was irrational and yeah he like Molly but he was Sherlock’s only friend and somehow that was special and if Molly became his friend he could take that away from him.

“You thinking about Sherlock again?” Harvey sidled up beside John as we waited to jog onto the field.

“What, no.”

“Yeah you are. You have the look of a kicked puppy. Look it doesn’t matter if the guy is out of his tree or not. I mean you have to admit he isn’t normal. But the dude likes you even if he doesn’t know what that means. I don’t know it is the same type of like you have for him because I’m not even sure he has feelings like that but you are his only friend and he would do anything for you so stop worrying and think about the game.” Harvey clapped John on the back while simultaneously rolling his eyes at him.

“Good pep talk coach,” John joked admitted feeling much better and finally being able to push Sherlock from his mind.

~~~~ 

They had won. The Ridgebacks were good but they were better. The whole team were floating on cloud nine, they had own their first game of the season. John was sore, he always was after a good game but this time in particular Isaac their quarterback had gotten into a fight and John being the captain had to save his sorry ass form being beaten up. John happened to be one of the shortest players on their team but everyone knew that he packed a punch and to steer clear of him. He just hoped that Sherlock didn’t think badly of him. John wasn’t a violent person, but he was fiercely loyal and he hated to see his team get hurt.

The team was filing out of the change rooms most being greeted by friends or girlfriends John however had his eye out for a mop of curly ebony hair. He found it leaning against the wall just past the exit. He had a cigarette between his lips taking a long drag. John frowned slightly he didn’t know Sherlock smoked and he didn’t like it all that much. Smoking was a terrible habit. He had dated a smoker last year and every time they would kiss it taste horrible. Not that he thought about kissing Sherlock. No. 

“I didn’t know you smoked? Bit young for it aren’t you?” John leaned against the wall next to Sherlock.

“Ah… yes. Bit not good?” Sherlock startled but regained his impassive demeanour that John was beginning to become accustomed to.

“Just a bit,” John shook his head but smiled when Sherlock stubbed out the rest of the cigarette with his foot. 

“Sorry,” John didn’t know what Sherlock was apologising for. Yes he didn’t like that Sherlock smoked but he didn’t want him to change for John.

Sherlock’s POV:

He had been clean since the day John took him on the date, not a date. He hadn’t touched cocaine in almost a week and that was unheard of in the last year, he was immensely proud of himself for it. His brain was somehow working faster, deducing better. He didn’t know if it was the long term effects of the drugs which slowed his cognitive faculties. How had he thought that they were helping him? Of course the cravings set his teeth on edge and some nights he lay away just itching for a hit but he was doing this for John. His John. 

John who caught him smoking outside his footy match and reprimanded him. John was good for him he decided, Mycroft had called and asked about his new friend. Apparently Mrs Hudson had called about his male visitor, aware of his preference. He wasn’t too happy with Sherlock, Mycroft had told him that he would be coming down that very weekend to ‘check up on him’. Sherlock thought it was supremely unfair that Mycroft had to stick his big nose in his business.

It was all of this that lead Sherlock to be sitting between John and Susan, Harvey’s on again off again girlfriend, discussing the game. Sherlock had picked up most of what was going on in the first 4 minutes but he enjoyed the attention he was getting form John as he explained every move and counter move they had played.

He like that John moved closer to him until their legs where pressed together under the table. It was quite clear now, away from school which of the team were gay and which were straight. It was apparently an unspoken rule that John had to later on explain to him, that outside of school they could be who they truly were. Haden and Harvey and Isaac, Caleb and most of the team were all quite on the straight and narrow, Jordan and Fred were still undecided, whereas John and Kohl were surprisingly accepted as being gay. It was interesting to see the teams dynamic as Kohl sat next to his boyfriend, Jason, everyone just acted as if they were any normal couple. Where Sherlock came from even if you weren’t a die-hard Christian being a homosexual was adherent. He liked that these boys were so accepting. He felt much safer by John’s side. 

It wasn’t until he was in bed that night thinking over how John had sat so close to him that he could smell his aftershave and just the general musk which was John that he noticed that at the outing with the footy team all consisted of couples. Is that what John thought they were, or was it just a coincidence? Did he want to be Sherlock’s boyfriend like kohl and Jason, except without the full on displays of affection in public, he hoped. Sherlock decided that he liked that thought, being John’s boyfriends. Boyfriend, he mulled the word over in his head while he drifted off into the most peaceful sleep he had had in quite some time.


	5. Ready to meet the real Sherlock?

Sherlock’s POV:

Sherlock was having a bad day, his skin itched, his eyes hurt, and his head was simultaneously pounding and swimming. His mind was wiring and he just wanted everything to stop. What was worse was that he was sitting dressed in a nicely pressed suit in the back of his brothers sleek black town car.

“So who is this John character?” Mycroft asked conversationally but the slightly tightened grip on his favourite umbrella and the tightening around his eyes gave away his anxiety towards Sherlock’s new ‘friend’. 

“He is a friend of mine.” Sherlock simply said. 

“Just a friend then. That isn’t what I have been told.” 

“Well you’re source is a 65 year old woman who thinks every man I talk to is suddenly my new boyfriend.” Sherlock snapped, his head was killing him and the last thing he wanted to do was discuss his not really their relationship with John because they were just friends and even if they did hang out and Sherlock helped John out in chemistry and went to all John’s rugby practices it wasn’t like they ever held hands of kissed or anything. They were just friends. For gods sakes they hugged for the first time yesterday, if you didn’t count that one time in the hall when he solved the case for Lestrade. Which he didn’t. 

“Aren’t you touchy this morning?” Mycroft eyed him, he just rolled his eyes knowing his brother thought he was high. 

“Yes I am touchy now leave me alone.” Sherlock rolled his eyes again.

“Yes I think its best you sleep it off. I have someone I need to visit anyway.” Mycroft’s lips slid into a smirk which made Sherlock’s blood run cold. 

“No. Don’t see John. You don’t need to I’m clean I’m not getting into fights, I’m doing well at school. What more do you want from me. He’s my friend I don’t need you chasing my only friend away because you have some crazy idea that I can’t look after myself.” Sherlock was all but shouting at Mycroft. He would ruin everything. He would tell John and John would hate him. 

“I don’t appreciate your tone brother, so for that you can walk home. Get out.” Sherlock stepped out into the light rain that had started and suddenly realised what part of town he was in. He didn’t know if his brother did it on purpose but he supposed it was some sort of test. He looked down an alleyway seeing a familiar face and already knew he would fail. 

~~~~ 

Sherlock woke groggily to find himself surrounded by beeping machines and bright lights which hurt his eyes. His body felt numb but painful at the same time. He always wondered how they managed to do that. He supposed it was the drugs flushing from his system. He knew as soon as he got out of the car that something bad was going to happen. He wasn’t even surprised to find himself here. 

He had been weaning himself slowly form the drugs so he wasn’t at all surprised to find he had over dosed. His body not accustomed to that level of intoxication. He had tried, he truly had but they had ushered him down the alley saying they haven’t seen him for months and Sherlock couldn’t say no to these people partially because they were the only suppliers which would give him any but mostly because he knew they would hurt him if he tried. He had once before after Victor left, he had tried to stop taking the drugs but they had hit him over and over and injected him themselves. It was his first overdose. Two more would follow leading him to his placement at John’s school. John he wondered if he had heard, if he was disgusted in him. Probably, but to be fair it was Mycroft’s fault if he had just dropped him off at Baker Hall he would have just gone to bed with a strong cup of tea.

John’s POV:

John had been working at the clinic the Saturday after the game. He mostly did paperwork for the doctors and nurses there but he liked the atmosphere of the medical profession. He had been doing some menial jobs and thinking about Sherlock which in all fairness is what he does most of the time. He worried about Sherlock he knew he smoked now, he had caught him at it after his footy match but that just got John wondering about all the things he didn’t know about Sherlock Holmes. 

It was the end of his shift when it happened, a sleek black town car pulled up alongside him the door opened and a man in a business suit offered him a ride. Of course he refused like any sane person. But they mentioned Sherlock and that piqued his interest so he got in, really a rather stupid idea.

“So you are John?” The man in the suit asked.

“I guess so, who are you?” John didn’t like the look of this man and if they knew Sherlock then they could really be anyone. 

“An interested party,” The posh git in the suit replied. John just rolled his eyes. “Are you a friend of Sherlock Holmes?” The git twirled his umbrella in his hands.  
“I… yes I am,” 

“Good, I need to ask you a favour,” The man asked mysteriously. 

“If you aren’t going to tell me who you are I am not doing anything for you.” John crossed his arms wishing not for the first time that he listened to his mother’s advice about strangers.

“Sherlock might call me his enemy, his arch-enemy if I’m not mistaken, which I rarely am.”

“Normal people don’t have arch-enemies,” John scoffed almost by reflex. This tosser sounded just like Sherlock on his off days, all high and might, posh git.  
“I know your family is having financial trouble John, I am willing to help you out with a monthly payment in exchange for information, nothing intrusive, nothing you don’t want to give, just tell me his comings and goings.” The man was smiling a Cheshire like smile at John which only made John more off put.  
“No,” He couldn’t believe the nerve of this guy.

“But I haven’t even told you the price yet?” The man looked confused.

“It doesn’t matter, Sherlock is my mate and no amount of money is going to get me to spy on him.” John folded his arms and looked out the window ignoring the man.

“Hmmm you are loyal far too quickly John Watson,” It sounded as if he was going to continue but he was cut off by a shrill ringing. After a short conversation the strange man turned to John.

“You are about to meet the real Sherlock Holmes John, are you ready?” Sherlock’s ‘arch-enemy’ told him before directing the driver to take them to St Barts Hospital. 

John was ushered into a private room by the suit wearing man, to see Sherlock lying in a bed. He looked so small with the machines around him beeping away keeping track of his heart rate and vital signs. 

“What was it this time?” The mystery man asked the Doctor as soon as he entered the room. 

“He overdosed on a mixture of Methamphetamines and Opiates. Not the highest dose he has had but by the looks of things he has been weaning himself from them for some time now. He’s been clean for a week at least if his blood work is anything to go by. His body was in the middle of detoxing so the dose affected him more than it would previously.” The doctor didn’t look the posh git in the eyes instead opting for talking to his clip board but each word hit John like a ton of bricks.

Sherlock was a drug addict, it explained a lot. The bad mood he had been in recently, the smoking, the secrecy. But he had been clean. The doctor had said he had been clean for a week. That was about the time he went on that date, not a date. Had he been trying to go off the drugs for John? No he had been weaning himself from them, so he had been changing before he met John but somehow John couldn’t shake the feeling he had stopped because of him. Just like that day he caught him smoking, and he threw away a half smoked cigarette because John asked him too. He incidentally hadn’t suspected of him doing it since. Though he guessed the nicotine would have helped the cravings for more potent drugs.

“He will be fine Mr Holmes, he is sleeping now and should wake on his own. Good day.” The doctor left.

“So you are the brother he loves to hate.” The pieces were falling together and John was finally getting the picture. How he missed the obvious familial resemblance he didn’t know.

“Yes and you are no longer of any use. You may leave. My dear brother has run out of chances.” John just rolled his eyes. He didn’t care what Sherlock’s brother would think he went and pulled the chair beside Sherlock’s bed and held on of his cold hands. Sherlock had overdosed, he had almost died.

John watched as Sherlock’s brother, Mycroft he thought his name was, shot one last look at his Sherlock laying in the bed, his face only showing annoyance. Like Sherlock was some sort of hitch in his plan. It was not the way one should look at their brother when he is laid up in the hospital recovering from an over dose. He wasn’t even fazed.

“I’ll send a car when you are ready to leave,” Mycroft then left leaving John there, at Sherlock’s bedside, feeling utterly useless and a little out of the loop.

~~~~ 

Sherlock’s POV:

When Sherlock came back into consciousness for the second time since his latest overdose, the first thing he noticed was he wasn’t alone anymore. It can’t have been his brother he would never deign to sit by his poor sick brother’s bedside. People would talk. He felt the person stirring and he turned his head slightly ignoring the throbbing in his temples to see a very tired and bedraggled John stirring form a nap. John knew. Did he hate him? Why was he still here?

“Morning,” Sherlock tried to sound cheery but his voice was raspy and dried. How long had he been asleep.

“You’re awake!” John jumped up and flung himself over his friend. Obviously he had been asleep for a while.

“What are you doing here?” Sherlock mumbled form underneath John. He didn’t seem mad.

“Well my daft friend went and overdosed on some pretty nasty stuff so I have been by his bedside making sure he was alright,” It didn’t escape Sherlock’s still fuzzy brain the slight pause John made before announcing their friendship, though he couldn’t deduce the reason.

“What an idiot,” Sherlock scoffed. Maybe John wasn’t mad.

“He better not do it again,” John warned sternly and Sherlock knew he wouldn’t not if he could help it. John was more important.

“He won’t,” Sherlock promises solemnly and John finally pulls away from the awkward hug.

“I’m glad you are okay.” John sat back down looking at his hands then back up at Sherlock.

“I am too.” Sherlock smiled at his John.

~~~~ 

John’s POV:

John had been by Sherlock’s bedside for 2 days now. He had called the school and the clinic letting them know he wouldn’t be in for the next week. As much as his schooling was important, Sherlock needed him more. He had gone back to his dorm and changed clothes, they ones he wore were over a day old and though he had just been sitting by Sherlock’s bedside they felt dirty and gritty. He then stopped by Baker Hall to pick Sherlock up a change of clothes also. He had woken up the previous day and the doctors had said that this afternoon if his blood work came back alright he could leave. He had to attend meeting and appointments which he was immeasurably displeased with but he would live and be alright and that’s all John cared about.

John arrived back at the hospital around 3pm. He had got caught up by Mrs Hudson she had offered him tea and then proceeded to grill him for almost an hour about his ‘not a relationship’ with Sherlock. John had a sneaking suspicion that she was not asking just for her own curiosity. 

When John finally arrived at Sherlock’s room he had a hand on the door handle before he heard raised voices.

“It’s not my fault you can’t control yourself,” John hear a posh voice say.

“My fault, my fault. I would have been fine if you hadn’t deliberately tested me. What do you expect me to do when you drop me off in that neighbourhood. And then you brought John here with you. I…” There was a choking noise and John couldn’t hear the rest of the words but a low murmur told John that Sherlock was still talking. 

So Mycroft must be in there with Sherlock. By the sounds of it they get on like a house on fire. John wondered what they were fighting about. Obviously Mycroft blames Sherlock for something, probably his recent overdose and Sherlock is blaming Mycroft. John wondered what he meant by Mycroft dropping him off in ‘that’ neighbourhood. Did Mycroft take him to a bad neighbourhood? John had heard about them, drug dens and dealers on every corner, everyone high. And he mentioned John. John wasn’t stupid, Sherlock had been keeping his drug use a secret.

John hardly had time to take a step back when Mycroft flung the door open and stormed past him but not before hissing into John’s ear.

“You better not be fucking with him.” 

John was stunned, for all the tough act that Mycroft had displayed and the hatred of his brother he tried to show he cared about Sherlock. It was apparent in that moment to John that Mycroft didn’t want anything to hurt his brother. Something akin to guilt was plastered on his face.

“John?” Sherlock called and John was at his bedside in a moment.

“How much did you hear,” Sherlock asked John looking down at his hands.

“Not much, just you blaming him, him blaming you. I wasn’t trying to eaves drop I promise. I brought you some clothes that’s all.” John held the bag out as proof.  
“It’s okay, I just want to get out of here, and the doctor said I could go whenever I want now.” Sherlock still refused to make eye contact. John was worried about him. He had been acting mostly normal since he had awoken but the fight with Mycroft shaken him. 

~~~~ 

John was sitting in his dorm room with Sherlock. Sherlock sitting cross legged on John’s bed while John sat at the desk chair, neither making eye contact. Sherlock had insisted that they didn’t go back to Baker Hall. He apparently didn’t want to see Mrs Hudson and see if his brother had been there.

“I guess you want to know,” Sherlock shocked John out of his thoughts.

“Know what?” John asked confusedly. The conversation springing up from nowhere.

“About the drug use. I guess you want to know about it, why I started and stuff. That’s what friends do right, they help each other through rough times or whatever, by talking about these things… right?” Sherlock almost seemed uncertain which didn’t surprise John at all. He had learnt quickly that Sherlock didn’t know the first thing about having a friend.

“If you want. You don’t have to if you don’t want to… but if it’ll help.” John offered.

“I… I think I would like to tell you. I would like at least someone to know the truth.” Joh just nodded watching Sherlock steel himself and breathe deeply before continuing. 

“It started almost two years ago. I moved schools three times since then but 2 years ago I was at a boarding school a little like this. Victor introduced me to the drugs. He was a senior, he was my room mate. Mycroft had thought because he was of above average intelligence it would be beneficial for me to room with him as opposed to someone stupid or my own age. Victor taught me… well he taught me how to clear my mind, he said it helped him think more clearly and it worked for a time. But then he started wanting to use it not just for thinking, playing with compounds and dosages to see the effects.” Sherlock shuddered and John was shocked. Victor had to at least been 17 if not 18 at the time he had been rooming with Sherlock. John was more than a little disgusted but he could tell there was something behind Sherlock’s eyes, he wasn’t telling John something.

“Go on,” John moved over to Sherlock on the bed and sat down next to him putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Sherlock looked up from where he was staring at his hands. John’s heart broke seeing silent tears running down over Sherlock’s far too prominent cheekbones.

“Victor g-got me hooked,” it seemed Sherlock could no longer make eye contact and he returned to staring at his hands twisted in his lap. “He was the only one I knew at the time who supplied me with drugs and after I was addicted he started asking for f-favours in exchange for them.” John’s gut twisted at these words. He couldn’t imagine a 14 year old Sherlock all innocent and wide eyed being hooked on drugs by his stupid roommate so he could be take advantage of. John felt physically sick.

“Did he?” John hated to ask.

Sherlock shook his head, “We did everything but… he said it was good to maintain a semblance of purity. He said that I was a drug addicted psychopath, if I didn’t have my virginity I wouldn’t have any bargaining chips in the future.” Sherlock shuddered again, probably at the memory.

“Oh god Sherlock I’m so sorry. I… I wish I knew what to do to make it better.” With any normal person John would have taken them in his arms but in all honesty he didn’t know if that would spook Sherlock or not at this point. 

“That’s not all,” Sherlock seemed to have lost all hope his shoulders slumped and his hands which had previously been wrung together where at the buttons of his shirt.

“He used to hit me a lot in the beginning that was until Mycroft thought I was getting bullied and threatened to take me out of the school. He got sneakier after that.” Sherlock sounded like he was bearing his soul and John’s heart broke for the poor broken boy. 

Sherlock had unbuttoned his shirt and John was unprepared for the sight of scars, some old and some not so, marring the perfect porcelain skin of Sherlock’s torso, his ribs and down his waist. When the shirt was shrugged form his shoulders Sherlock turned his wrists so John could see more scars, some uniform and strait obviously done in a controlled way others crooked and overlapping. John could almost imagine and crying angry Sherlock making those marks upon himself.

“Most of these are from me now, I’ve cut over most of the scars he left.” Sherlock just ran his hands over a few scars and John knew these must have been left by Victor. John couldn’t help himself anymore and he had to reach his hand out and stroke across some of Sherlock’s scars on his ribs. John looked up sadly  
“I still cut now, sometimes its punishment, sometimes I just hate myself that much. Sometimes it’s because I want to feel normal. Normal people feel pain and I just want to be normal sometimes.”

“Oh god, I can’t… I’m so sorry… I wish I had known.” 

“It’s okay. I guess you want me to leave now?” Sherlock made to get up.

“No, of course not. Why would you think that?” John caught Sherlock’s wrist.

“Well I’m a freak, I do drugs, I cut, and I’m not…” John cut Sherlock off by pulling on his arm til he was sat on John’s lap practically straddling John. John wrapped his arms around Sherlock and realised that Sherlock was normal, he had built all these wall up because of what one stupid boy had done and now John held the pieces that were left. The boy who hated people, hated emotions. Sentiment is for the losing side, he’d heard it enough times.

“You are my best friend Sherlock. I don’t care about the drugs. I hate that you take them of course I do because they are hurting you but I don’t and I will never hate you or think you are a freak. Okay?” John looked down into Sherlock’s eyes and he saw an innocence there that both broke and warmed his heart.

“Promise?” Sherlock curled up on John’s lap and rested his head against John’s 

“I promise Sherlock but can you please try to stop taking drugs.” 

“I’ll try harder this time John, I promise,” John felt Sherlock go boneless in his arms and his breathing evened out. He didn’t dare move in case he woke the sleeping boy that he had become rather too fond of. Sherlock would defiantly be the death of him.


	6. Do You Want To Be My Boyfriend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. I am so very sorry about not updating in forever. I love you guys and I finally have another chapter for you and I hope you love it. Some cute Johnlock Fluffiness. I really appreciate all your support and comments, they really help the old creative juices flow.

Sherlock’s POV:

“He’s you’re brother Mycroft. How could you just drop him off in the middle of nowhere to test him? Are you insane?” Sherlock awoke to John’s raised voice. He had slept over at John’s dorm room that first night he had been released for Hospital and so far three days after he still hadn’t left. John hadn’t wanted to let him out of his sight and quite frankly Sherlock was quite enjoying his company.

“He needs to learn how to not give in to temptation!” Mycroft’s voice slicing through any hope Sherlock had of just going back to sleep.

“My ability to resist temptation is fine Mycroft.” Sherlock mumbled into his (John’s) pillow.

“Of course it is brother, now when are you returning to Baker Hall and class, I might add?” Sherlock just rolled his eyes. He never wanted to go back.

“Never, now go away.” Sherlock pushed his face back into his (john’s) pillow and stoically ignored his brother’s rant about needing to return. It went on to reference his drug use and previous situations. It wasn’t until Victors name was mentioned that Sherlock tensed and turned slightly to stare daggers at his brother. Mycroft’s rant was suddenly cut short by an expertly thrown punch by John.

Sherlock thought he had never seen anything so hot as John chest heaving glaring at his brother. Wait not hot, he wasn’t allowed to think John was hot. They were best friends. That was more than Sherlock could ever ask for. And when did Sherlock start thinking of people as hot. Sentiment was one thing, physical attraction was another.

Mycroft after that was much more reserved and it was decided that if John was able to accompany Sherlock to Baker Hall and be there to ‘look after him’ (I don’t need a babysitter brother!) Then Sherlock would not be removed from this school and he only had to do a random drug test twice a month. Sherlock still scowled but he begrudgingly agreed to the terms while he watched John pack up some of his things preparing for the move.

~~~~

John’s POV:

“This is the first time I have been in one of the posh halls. I mean you must pay 300 quid a week for this place. It has two bedrooms and everything. Can’t believe your brother is paying for John to stay here. You lucked out in the boyfriend department bro,” Nathan punched John in the shoulder. The lads had helped John move his stuff and now were draped over the living room drinking beer that Isaac had scored and brought around.

“He isn’t my boyfriend Nathan,” John shoved his friend and teammate off the couch blushing furiously. It’s not that he didn’t want that but knowing Sherlock’s history and everything he had to be a bit more careful.

“Oh common, I see the way you go all heart eye’s emoji over him John. It’s adorable.” Jason chimed in to Sherlock. This seemed to just freak Sherlock out knowing that others could easily see emotions that he was displaying.

“We are not dating guys,” I tried to defend but no one was listening.

The argument reached a crescendo when a door slammed and everyone looked over to the closed door of Sherlock’s bedroom.

“I think we upset Sherlock,” Harvey motioned for the guys to get up and leave. John just sat there with his head in his hands listening to his teammates file out of his new dorm.

“Hey go talk to him,” Harvey nudged John a little once everyone was gone.

“It’s complicated. I’m not so sure if it was what we said or all the noise that set him off. I’ll see you in class okay. Thanks mate.” John clapped Harvey’s shoulder and looked worriedly at the closed door.

~~~~

“Hey Sherlock you okay?” John knocked on Sherlock’s door softly before trying the handle when he got no response. What he found made his heart break Sherlock was curled up in the centre of the large bed looking small and rather fragile a box lay open in front of him and he was caressing an object inside.

 

John cautiously took the blade form Sherlock’s hand and moved the box onto the floor before climbed onto the bed and lay down next to Sherlock.

“I’m sorry about my team mates,” John tried. “They are just being idiots. Ignore them okay. They really didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. They’ve all left now anyway.” John just kept talking despite the silence he was greeted with. He scooted closer so he could more accurately make out Sherlock’s face and wiped a tear form him cheek before bringing him into his arms.

Sherlock sobbed into John’s chest for a few minutes. John just petted the unruly curls and soothed a hand down Sherlock’s back. Hoping to bring some comfort to the younger boy. John wanted nothing more than to stay like this forever. Granted he would rather Sherlock be in his arms for a reason other than he is crying but it still felt so right having his weight and warmth so close.

“John?” Sherlock finally muttered.

John hummed his acknowledgement.

“I’m sorry for getting upset I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” John heard Sherlock say in a small voice, but could not bring himself to make eye contact with the beautiful boy.

“It’s okay. You are allowed to feel things Sherlock.” John held Sherlock tighter.

“I just don’t think I’m ready for everyone else to know that. I don’t want them to have something else to tease me about.” John felt Sherlock mumbled into his chest.

“It’s okay. How about with me there is no pretending okay. I will never tease you, I will never judge you. I promise.” John tenderly kissed the mop of curls before really thinking through the action.

“John can I ask you something?” John felt Sherlock move back slightly and look up at him.

“Anything,” John said holding Sherlock’s gaze.

“Why do they think I’m your boyfriend?” Sherlock’s head was cocked to the side and his eyes though red rimmed were wide and thoughtful.

“Well because they see how much I care about you and they can’t understand why.” John answered as honestly as possible.

“Oh…” Sherlock paused and he looked down at a spot on John’s chest. John almost missed the next words which were said in an almost indistinguishable whisper, “Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

“I… yes. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t want to be your friend.” John held his breath as he said the words which were make or break at this point in time.

Sherlock’s gaze snapped up and met his. Cool blue grey eyes assessing and cataloguing each minute muscle spasm probably looking for any signs of deceit.

“Oh.” Sherlock’s mouth was opened in a little ‘O’ which John silently thought was adorable. It was the face he made every time he figured out a puzzle.

“I know that it must bring up a lot or bad memories me being your roommate and having a crush on you and all but I promise I won’t do anything. It’s all good. Whatever you want is all good Sherlock.” John said earnestly, his arms tightening reflexively around Sherlock.

“I’m not sure I want to like kiss and stuff. Not in public at least.” Sherlock whispered quietly. John was lucky he was so close or he would not have heard.

“What? Why would we be kissing in public?” John was taken aback. Was Sherlock suggesting what he thought he was?

“Well that’s what Kohl and Jason do. Quite a bit I might add. I think there is a link to the time of their last copulation but I would need more data.” And just like that Sherlock seemed to have rebooted and sparks of the old Sherlock where back.

“Sherlock, do you actually want to be my boyfriend?” John looked at his best friend / roommate / apparent boyfriend-to-be.

“Well you are quite attractive and you make me smile and laugh and happy and you said you wanted that. I have entertained the notion before and well I just thought you would never like me,” Sherlock finished mumble the last confession.

“Oh god we have been so stupid haven’t we?” John chuckled to himself when Sherlock shot him and indignant look.

“Let’s start again shall we. I like you Sherlock much more than a friend should and I would like to take you on dates and watch you experiment and chase away all your demons. I like your curly hair and your mad genius and how you almost blow up your dorm room on a regular basis. I like that you are the most handsome unique wholly singular human being I have ever had the fortune of meeting. Will you be my boyfriend?” John saw the tears well up in Sherlock’s eyes and silently run down his cheeks.

“John. I never thought I would find someone I ever wanted to have feelings for. I spent so long just not feeling and it crept up on me my feelings for you. I don’t know if it was how you are too nice to tell someone you aren’t interested or how you stoped people from picking on me or just how accepting you are in general of who I am and my past. You make me happy because you are a mystery I may never solve and I never want to. I would very much like to be your boyfriend.” Sherlock’s little speech brought John to the brink of tears. He hadn’t cried since his fathers funeral so that was saying something.

“Does this mean I don’t have to deny it when the boys tease me about you?” John asked jokingly.

“Only the team though. I really don’t want a lecture about our horrendous sin by father Brian.” Sherlock giggled which John found extremely cute. They settled down for the night. After three nights of sleeping in John’s tiny dorm with only a single bed it was quite normal except that Sherlock cautiously scooted over resting his head against John’s chest while John carded a hand though his thick ebony curls.


	7. Chapter 7

John's POV:

The next day John and Sherlock went back to classes. They hadn't had time in the morning to catch up with John's team and inform them of their new relationship status, though  it didn't escape John's notice that people were staring in the hallways and whispering to their friends as they went past. John tried his best to just shrug off the attention, knowing that others couldn't possibly know about their relationship ,  but it still was slightly disconcerting knowing he and Sherlock were the  center of school gossip.

" I'll see you at lunch yeah?" John asked Sherlock before they separated to their first period classes.

" Of course John. I'll see you later." Sherlock' lips twitched up at the corners which eased most of the nervousness in John.

~~~~

It wasn't until the class before lunch that anyone had the guts to approach John. Most of the whispers were confined to the hallways between classes because the teachers were strict about talking in class.

" So I hear that you moved into Baker Hall with that Sherlock kid you're friends with." Janine scooted up to him in his history class.

" Uh yeah." At least now he knew what everyone was talking about. It was stupid to think no one would find out that they live together.

" So do you put up with the freak?" Janine placed her hand on John's arm.

" Excuse me?" John knew people didn't like Sherlock but really he hated how they treated him. He was a human being too.

" Come on. I guess his family is paying and all. Good perks for pretending to be the freaks friend. How do you do it? I don't think I could put up with him. Have you seen the way he talks down to people like he thinks he is better than us? Like, come on he is just a little freak with no friends." Janine laughed at her own comment and John had had just about enough of everyone thinking he was using Sherlock and didn't have genuine feelings for him.

" Actually, Janine, Sherlock is my friend and I, after finding what real friends are, don't know how I put up with stupid fake posers like you." John shoved her hand away from his arm and stormed out of the classroom. Not before being given a lunch time detention.

Got detention at Lunch by Mr. Myers – JW 11:36a.m. Monday

Me too, by Mr. Dyson – SH 11:37a.m. Monday

What for? – JW 11:37a.m. Monday

Got tripped by Jackson in Biology so I punched him. Not Good? – SH 11:39a.m. Monday

Oh god. Are you okay? It fine. He deserved it :) – JW 11:41a.m. Monday

See you in detention Mr. Watson – SH 11:43a.m. Monday

That's Captain Watson to you ;) – JW 11:45a.m. Monday

" Captain is it?" John heard Sherlock whisper in his ear as he sat next to him in the detention room. John just chuckled his mood already better.

" Enough of your cheek Lock," John saw the faint blush steal up Sherlock's cheeks.

" Already at the pet name stage John?" Sherlock asked lowly. John wasn't sure they were teasing anymore.

" We are at whatever stage you are ready for okay?" John smiled warmly at his boyfriend. Sherlock really was something, all confident and strong yet small and fragile.

" Okay. I-I really like when you call me Lock." John nodded secretly finding it adorable that Sherlock stuttered when he was nervous.

" Okay I will sometimes. Though, I may also call you babe, darling, and sweetheart." John stated watching Sherlock's cheeks redden at the first two nicknames and same a subtle hitch in his breath at the third. An observation he kept to himself for a later date.

~~~~

" Seriously bro you both landed yourself in detention on your first day back. You're lucky they are letting you play the game this weekend." Haden smacked John upside the back of the head when he sat down with the boys after school.

" Yeah nice leading by example Cap," Fred joked.

" Okay. Down boys." John joked back. He loved his teammates.

" Soooo," Harvey waggled his eyebrows at Sherlock and John as they sat side by side.

" Yeah tell us all the juicy details." Kohl asked

" There are no details okay." John looks sideways at Sherlock who nods at him before settling down comfortably next to him on the grass.

" Yes, Sherlock and I are together," Whatever John was going to say next was interrupted by a mass of cheering by John's teammates.

" Finally!" Harvey threw his arm around John's shoulder grinning like a Cheshire cat.

" Okay you guys are officially mad. Can we talk about something else." And that was that. The team changed topics to that weekends game and John got to sit back and lean slightly into Sherlock as he listened to Isaac and Fred argue with Harvey about tactics and statistics of the other team. John couldn't help but feel good. But he should have known that it couldn't last forever.

~~~~

If John thought that the drugs or the self-harm would be the hardest part about being Sherlock's roommate or even his boyfriend, he was wrong. John could take the experiments in the kitchen, though he made sure that they at least had fresh non-contaminated milk for tea. John could take Sherlock missing meals as long as he ate when John insisted. John could even take how Sherlock would sometimes just sit for hours and be ignorant of the world around him. What John couldn't take was waking in the middle of the night to a shaking sobbing Sherlock crawling into his bed. He wasn't mad, of course, but it was just something he thought they ought to talk about.

It didn't happen straight away but one night about 3 weeks into their relationship John awakened in the middle of the night. At first he couldn't figure out why he was awake. He didn't need to pee and he hadn't had a nightmare so it really didn't make sense till he heard a sniffle in the darkness.

" Sherlock?" John sat up in the darkness blindly searching for the bedside lamp. A small cold hand wrapped around his wrist. John retracted his hand when the grip loosened.

" Sherlock do you want to lay down with me for a bit? Did you have a bad dream?" John moved over slightly so there was room for Sherlock to get into his bed if he wanted to.

After a moment of silence which to John at least felt like far too long, John felt a dip in the mattress and a presence beside him.

John reached out and placed a comforting hand on the younger boy, but what he got in return was a choked off whimper and his boyfriend flinching away from him.

" I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. It's just me Sherlock, it's John. I would never hurt you. I'm never going to hurt you. I promise. Everything will be okay. I'm going to protect you Sherlock." John kept his voice low and calm.

Eventually Sherlock relaxed and his body stopped shaking. John had been still murmuring sweet nothings to him when he felt Sherlock shift closer and cautiously reach out for John.

" There you go baby. I'm right here." John soothed as Sherlock curled himself around John.

" I'm sorry," John heard Sherlock mumble wetly against his neck.

" Hey it's okay. I'm here for it all Lock. I'm here for the experiments, the smartass comments, and the bad days. I'm not leaving because of a nightmare. I promise." John wrapped his arms around Sherlock and felt his heart squeeze a little when he felt Sherlock place a single small kiss against his neck before they both drifted back to sleep.


	8. Two Girlfriends?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. It has been a while but there is more to come. I'm sorry about my absence and I wish I could say I have been doing somehting constructive in it but really I haven't.Thank you to all you lovely people who have stuck around. I love you all so very much!

Chapter 8  
  
John POV:  
  
Each time John mentions the nightmares Sherlock either shuts down or finds something else to do. The first time Sherlock cooked John a full breakfast and then again, later that day, Sherlock just retreated back into himself. After several failed attempts John decided that this was just something that Sherlock had to approach John with on his own.  
  
The pattern of their life continued; Sherlock waking John up with a Violin concerto every morning, tea in the arm chair across from Sherlock's where John could just relax and Sherlock often cataloguing information in his mind palace. Then school, 6 classes a day with mind numbingly obnoxious and intrusive peers. They would have lunch with the footy team and after a while they really warmed to Sherlock being there, incidentally there was a correlation between Kohl and Jason's public displays of affection and their lack of a sex life. They would get back to the dorm and John would lay out his homework, sometimes Sherlock would point out his mistakes sometimes he would be in the small kitchenette experimenting. Then they would retire for the night.  
  
It had only happened 4 more times, Sherlock sneaking into John's room in the middle of the night after a nightmare, four times in five weeks. John was concerned, more than he let on but Sherlock could probably tell, the genius that he was.  
  
It had weirded his team out at first how John in the almost 2 months he had been dating Sherlock they had never once kissed. Of course after each nightmare Sherlock would wrap himself around John his body begging for physical touch. His lips would always be murmuring apologies against John's neck and it pained and disgusted John to admit that those were the moments that he enjoyed most.  
  
John had gotten so used to their routine that it surprised him more than it should have when Sherlock came whizzing out of his bedroom one day belstafe swirling behind him with a determined look on his face and a glint of excitement in his eyes.  
  
"Come on John. We've got a case," John vaguely remembers Sherlock telling him about his work with an associate of Mycroft's at New Scotland Yard, Lestrade. Sherlock had once said that solving crimes was a good way to keep his mind busy. He now knew that by keeping his mind busy he really meant keeping him off drugs.  
  
John ever the dutiful boyfriend followed him to the cab and he could see Sherlock practically bouncing in his seat.  
  
The cab took them to a run-down apartment complex that had been cordoned off by police tape and police cars with their lights flashing were parked outside. Sherlock was practically vibrating with excitement and it gave John a warm feeling to know that Sherlock was happy. He look practically innocent like a kid on Christmas at the prospect of the crime scene.  
  
They approached the police tape, Sherlock ducked under and held it for John to do the same. John was surprised that no one questioned their presence. It seemed almost natural for them to see Sherlock there. It took them a few moments to register John's presence.  
  
A female officer approached them and John saw Sherlock visibly stiffen, his back straightening out and his shoulders squaring, bringing him to his full height, which just slightly exceeded John's.  
  
"You can't be here," The women addressed John directly.  
  
"Yes he can he's with me," Sherlock addressed her haughtily. It was the same tone he used when deducing the bullies which set off little alarms inside John's head.  
  
"Really mini freak since when did you have friends?" John bristled at the apparent nickname, if he could call it that, that the police officer had given Sherlock and the rather rude remark.  
  
"Officer Donovan if that's Sherlock stop insulting him and let him in," a voice called form the entrance to the hotel before Sherlock could find a suitable scathing remark.  
  
"Come along John," John followed Sherlock dutifully into the crime scene not giving the female officer a second glance.  
  
~~~~  
  
John didn't what to expect but it was not seeing his boyfriends shoulders straighten and his posture tighten as he strode into the crime scene with purpose his head on a swivel taking in every inch of the dingy hotel room with his keen eyes.  
  
John followed him into a small fluorescently light bathroom. A man was lying in a bathtub full of water. Sherlock stalked into the roo crouching down to the bathtub to inspect the man. John just stood off to the side with the detective called Lestrade watching Sherlock in his element.  
  
"Male late 30's. He obviously wasn't drowned, your M.E. should be able to confirm it." Sherlock said addressing the young man. John saw the weird look The officer gave Sherlock and he then elaborated.  
  
"Oh Lestrade this is John. He is my… friend. John this is Detective Inspecter Lestrade, Youngest DI at New Scotland Yard. Have you moved the body, did you let Anderson touch anything." John didn't miss the sideways glance and pause when being called Sherlock's friend. But he didn't mind that Sherlock didn't want these people to know. They were after all essentially his work colleagues he guessed.  
  
"Sherlock you are not supposed to bring friends. No one has touched anything. I figured this would be at least a 6." The DI didn't seem mad which would have been John's first guess at his reaction to Sherlock's antics, instead he actually looked slightly amused.  
  
"Right. John's going to be a doctor so this would be good practice for him and he's helping with my addiction so he stays." John was shocked that Sherlock mentioned his addiction since knowing him he had only mentioned it a handful of times in the first two weeks after his overdose. Sherlock just continued to look around the bathroom spill out deductions.  
  
"The man wasn't drowned. It's obvious really. He wasn't even killed in here. There are no signs of a struggle and he didn't die and then try to fake his own drowning. He was probably killed in the apartment though, there are no bruises or abrasions pertaining to the body being moved far." Sherlock stood and started to look around the room before rushing into the bedroom to continue the deducing.  
  
"He had multiple lovers, two long term girlfriends which didn't know about each other. You can tell by the two differing styles in this room. The victim probably passed the other girlfriends input as his own. He had other lovers you can tell by the condoms. He wouldn't use them with his long term girlfriends obviously that would be suspicious but with the flings he might especially the men he slept with." Sherlock stopped to look around the room some more.  
  
"He was killed here on the bed probably strangled by something soft that wouldn't leave immediate marks. You can see the scratch marks on the bedside table where he tried to grab something probably a lamp which was smashed. You can see the ring of dust where it used to be until recently and now it's gone. She must have cleaned up after herself. You might find her DNA under his nails but I doubt it. I would start by trying to find the two girlfriends, it has to be one of them."  
  
"Why does it have to be one of the girlfriends Sherlock? Why not one of his other sexual partners? You said he had a few?"  
  
"Well he has obviously killed during sex, he was naked after all. She probably used what she had tied his hands to the headboard with to strangle him to death" John blushed at the thought that Sherlock knew of such things and then felt a rolling in his gut at the thought of how Sherlock could know about bondage. John suddenly felt very sick. He averted his eyes and tried to think of everything and anything to get the sick images out of his head.  
  
"He probably called the other girlfriends name out or something during sex and she snapped. Using the tie to strangle him and then dumping him in the bath to fake a suicide and cleaning up all evidence that she existed. She could easily pin it on the other girl he had been seeing." Sherlock finished explaining his reasoning to the DI in the tone of voice that said 'why am I surrounded by morons' which made John feel just a little bit better about the whole situation.  
  
"Thank you Sherlock. I'll keep you posted on the details and I will send case files over for you to look through." The DI ushered them out onto the street and Sherlock called for a cab.  
  
While they waited the same officer came over but this time accompanied by a pale man with rather greasy blond hair. John was really starting to take a disliking to them.  
  
"So mini freak figured it out already. Got to be a new record for you 28 minutes?" John saw Sherlock glance at him before rounding on the pair.  
  
"No it's not but it really wasn't that hard to figure out. If you spent less time scrubbing Anderson's floors when his fiance is away on business then you might have been able to solve it too." John had to fight very hard to keep his face straight. Of course Sherlock could tell who was shagging who.  
  
"Shut up mini freak. You're much too innocent to be sprouting such atrocious lies."  
  
"Innocent? If I wanted some sort of mutually beneficial sexually gratifying relationship I could have one." Sherlock said a little affronted.  
  
"Aww look at the mini freak trying to be cool in front of his friend." Donovan cooed and pulled a sympathetic face.  
  
"Okay that's enough. I don't care if you are police or whatever. You don't treat Sherlock like that ever. Stop being complete wankers and go do your jobs," Thankfully their taxi pulled up and John pushed Sherlock inside.  
  
~~~~  
  
Sherlock was mostly silent on the ride back to Baker Hall. It wasn't until they were locked away in their dorm room that the mask for the outside world fell. The long coat thrown haphazardly over John's chair and Sherlock was standing his shoulders lower his head down.  
  
"I'm sorry John," Sherlock was standing rather uncomfortably.  
  
John really felt bad for Sherlock, he had to put up with so much from so many.  
  
"Hey it's okay. You were amazing. I don't think I got to tell you that back there. You are so brilliant. I'm so lucky to have you." John pulled Sherlock into his arms.  
  
"You don't think I'm weird because I don't want to … you know," Sherlock mumbled into John's chest.  
  
"I think we need tea and to sit down if we are going to have this conversation Sherlock, but no I would never think any less of you because of who you are." John kissed the crown of Sherlcok's head and busied himself with tea, mentally preparing himself for the conversation to come.  
  
~~~~  
  
"Sherlock have you ever been attracted to someone?" John thought that a straight forward approach was the only way he was ever going to be able to have this talk. He was far too nervous about Sherlock's answers.  
  
"I'm attracted to you," Sherlock looked at him innocently.  
  
"I mean sexually Sherlock. I know that you like me and we will kiss one day but have you ever just wanted to have sex with someone. Just saw someone and thought hey they are really hot, I think I fancy them?" Sherlock just stared at John rather blankly with a little furrow between his eyebrows.  
  
"I take that as a no. which is perfectly fine Sherlock. What ever you are, it's fine." John sipped his tea.  
  
"I don't know John. I find you attractive. I think you are… hot." Sherlock blushes looking at the hands clasped in his lap.  
  
"You don't have to Sherlock but if you do that's fine as well. I think you are hot too."  
  
"Really," There was such a tone of awe in Sherlock's tone, almost like he couldn't conceive that anyone would find him attractive, that it just about broke John's heart.  
  
"Of course I do and I would really like to kiss you and do other things with you when you are ready for them." John saw a faint blush steal up Sherlock's cheeks.  
  
"I don't really know how things are supposed to work and I don't really know how to define my sexuality, I guess, but I do really like you and I do want to kiss you and cuddle you and be very close to you all the time. I think I do feel attracted to you but I'm not really sure what that feels like and I'm glad you are so nice to me and patient with me and I think that one day we probably will do other stuff because I hear it's nice and I trust you to make it good. I-I'm just glad I found you John," Sherlock was rambling and as he rambled he clambered into Johns lap and curled his lanky limbs up into a ball.


	9. First Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a very Merry Chrsitmas and as a gift to all you amazing people who have been reading this here is another chapter. I will try and update more frequently next year.

Sherlock’s POV:

It was a week until the end of the semester and John and Sherlock were both dreading going home for the holidays. John didn’t want to be in the overly Christian household he grew up in. His sister already didn’t speak to their parents, they don’t even acknowledge that she is getting married. They act is if she is dead, or simply doesn’t exist. He didn’t want that to happen to him when they found out about Sherlock. 

Sherlock on the other hand didn’t want to leave John. The boy who had become so important in his life, he felt like he couldn’t breathe without him.

It was the eve of their last weekend together before the Christmas break and Sherlock had begrudgingly agreed to watch John’s Rugby game. Sherlock was still coming to terms with the conversation he ad John had had some weeks ago. John always told him that whatever he felt was fine but how could that be true. He was different he knew that. He didn’t find anyone else attractive. He only thought those things about John. Was he broken? Sherlock longed to find out what would happen if he just kissed John but what if that was it, what if he only wanted to kiss John and have John hold him. John deserved more, he deserved everything. Someone who could give him everything. Sherlock wondered why John stayed sometimes. He knew it was bad to think these things, but as he sat in the cold on the bleachers watching the love of his life run around in footy shorts after a ball he couldn’t help but think that John would be better off without him. He would never leave of course, Sherlock never could. He loved John in a way that was pure, no motives, just love.

~~~~

They won of course, and they made sure to let Sherlock know that without his help it would have never happened. He had been running statistics and plays for them for weeks now and without them they would be hopeless.

“Drinks on me tonight lads,” Caleb shouted to the lads. He had had a few already and everyone was on their way to becoming slightly drunk. Sherlock of course had hardly had anything. He wasn’t supposed to drink anyway, it was part of his sobriety program that John insisted he partook in.

“Let’s play a drinking game,” Jason suggested as the lads cheered at the idea.

“How about never have I ever,” Kohl suggested.  Some of the lads looked around questioningly.

“It’s easy you just say something you’ve never done and if the other people have done it they have to drink.” Jason explained.

“I’ll go first,” Kohl said. “Never have I ever kissed a girl,” Everyone besides Sherlock drank including Jason who got a smirk from Kohl. There was a story there Sherlock assumed.

“You’re go Harvey.” Kohl chuckled.

“Okay never have I ever,” He paused to think, “travelled outside The UK,” no one drank besides Isaac and Sherlock. It was Fred’s go.

“Never have I ever,” There was a short pause, “Seen a dead body.” Sherlock looked at John who was smirking and trying to hold back laughter. They maintained eye contact as they both drank. There was a little silence where everyone wasn’t quite sure what to make of the interaction.

“It’s your go Sherlock.” Kohl reminded him.

“Uh, Never have I ever,” He tried to think. What was normal, what would a normal person say. He gave up thinking and said the first thing that came to his head, “never have I ever seen a James Bond movie.” This did cause John to laugh out loud before him and everyone at the table took a swig.

“Never have I ever dated a blond,” It was John’s turn. Victor was blonde, Sherlock remembered, so was John. Maybe he had a type. John said he did, brunettes who were tall. That fit Sherlock to a tee.  He drank.

“Never have I ever kissed a boy,” It was one of the straight and narrow lad’s turns and Sherlock swallowed hard. John took a drink so did kohl, Jason and Nathan. Sherlock did not. He had never kissed a boy. He and Victor hadn’t ever kissed not really, he had been bitten and had marks all over his body in the shape of Victors mouth but a kiss, no they had never done that. It was a first he could give John he suddenly realised. Something that wasn’t tainted like his body by the experience.

“Sherlock mate are you gonna drink,” Kohl asked. John shifted awkwardly beside him.

“I’ve never kissed a boy before.” Sherlock said dumbly. That was the point of the game after all. To tell the truth by drinking. A bit silly but very effective when you come to think of it.

“You got to be kidding me? You’ve never kissed anyone. Mate how sheltered are you.”

“Leave him alone Kohl, we can’t all suck face all the time like you.” John shot a glare at his team mate. He held Sherlock’s had under the table which dissipated some of the anxiety growing within him.

“Oooh touchy subject I see.” Harvey cooed at John who refused to look at any of them. Did that make Sherlock weird as well? That he had never kissed a boy. The game continued on, to much more harmless topics.

“Never have I ever been shagged by another bloke,” Jason said smirking at Kohl who had to take a drink, he was obviously a bottom. Sherlock took a reluctant sip avoiding all eyes. He had been shagged. It wasn’t pleasant and he wasn’t sure if he should have just lied about it. The sip he took to indicate the truth was involuntary by that point; they had had quite a bit to drink. Everyone went really quiet and just stared at Sherlock and then looked to John and then back at Sherlock. John squeezed his hand under the table.

“I think we will be off now. See ya’ later mates. It was a good game,” Sherlock heard John say. He feels pull on his arm as John all but drags Sherlock out of the pub in which they had all been celebrating. Sherlock isn’t functioning, he is remembering. He doesn’t know if it was the alcohol or the questions but the room in his mind palace which holds all the memories of Victor all the things he wished he could delete but can’t was flung wide open and everything has come out. All the pain and the hurt and the detachment. How he felt like he wouldn’t survive, how he didn’t want to.

“Come on Sherlock,” He heard John mutter as he was pushed into the back of a cab on the way back to Baker street he presumed. He vaguely wondered if Mrs Hudson would mind that he had been drinking. He assumed she would but she trusted John, trusted his judgement. They had gotten to become close over the past months.

“Are you okay sweetheart,” John asks him once he had been settled on the sofa.

“Y-yeah I think so, just…”  Sherlock shuddered, the room still open and the memories still flashing behind his eye lids. With John there beside him he could stay in the present, he could differentiate between the harsh touches he can feel in his mind and the gentle caress of John’s hands as they run through his curls.

“It’s just hard to not remember sometimes. I’m sorry John. I know how much winning meant to you. I’m sorry I ruined your celebration.” Sherlock mumbled. He really did feel bad. He couldn’t even keep it together for one night. Not even for John.

“It’s okay sweetheart. You didn’t ruin anything. Let’s get you into bed and tomorrow when we are both sober we can talk about it okay.” Sherlock just nodded and allowed John to unbutton his shirt and trousers. It would have had him blushing but he knew just how much John enjoyed looking after him. He had to tap down on his arousal at the thought. John looking after him, it was an appealing idea for another time.

“I would like to kiss you John. I know we shouldn’t not until tomorrow at least. But I would like to give you something that no one else has taken from me. I want you to be my first,” Sherlock mumbled as John tucked him into bed. John’s hands faltered as he smoothed down the covers over Sherlock.

“In the morning we will talk about this Lock’.” John stood and Sherlock watched him retire to his own room.

Sherlock tried to sleep he really did. His eyelids drooped and grew heavy but his mind would not shut off. The door to Victor’s room was still open and Sherlock knew from experience that he would not get to sleep until it was closed which could take hours even sometimes days. Usually he got high to take away the memories, recently he had been finding that John’s presence would help to shut the doors in his mind, to calm his thoughts. Sherlock wondered if he could go to him now. Would he still be allowed to crawl into John’s bed, he knew John had had quite a bit to drink and the fact that his mood had been so even was just evidence to the turmoil that Sherlock knew must be going on in his head. He decided to risk it anyway. Maybe by now John was asleep he had stopped moving 20 minutes ago and it was enough time to be in a deep phase of sleep.

Sherlock padded his way to his boyfriend’s bedroom and waited just outside the door. He listened for John’s breathing, deep and even. He cracked to door open slightly and looked inside. John lay there eyes closed under the covers curled up on his side facing away from the door. Sherlock could see his bare shoulders from his position by the door and as quietly as he could muster crept to the unoccupied side of the bed. He slipped under the covers gently as not to disturb John’s sleep and found that just the simple proximity to John help immensely. He was soon able to relax his muscles and close his eyes and within a few minutes he was well on his way to sleep.

~~~~

Sherlock woke slowly the next morning, with a slight pain in his head and a mouth that was drier than the Sahara. He cracked open an eye and observed his surroundings. Oh yes, John’s room. He remembered not being able to stop thinking and coming to John for comfort. Sometime during the night John had curled himself around Sherlock’s lanky frame and nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck. Sherlock felt the strong arms around him tighten as John dreamt. It relaxed him in a way he didn’t know was possible prior to meeting John. John mumbled in his sleep a sure sign that he was going to wake up. Sherlock panicked slightly. Would John be okay with finding Sherlock in his bed? Would he

“Sherlock?” He felt John’s tired mumble against the skin of his shoulder.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep.” Best to start with an apology just I case John was mad at him.

“S’okay. You should have woken me up for a cuddle.” John nuzzled into the Sherlock’s’ neck comfortingly.

“I wasn’t sure if you wanted me here. That’s all. After last night and all.” Sherlock suddenly felt very shy and a little uncomfortable in John’s embrace not being able to see his face and deduce him. He squirmed slightly until John reluctantly let him go so he could turn around. What he saw was far worse than the anger or disappointment that he was anticipating instead a look of worry and pity was painted across John’s face which just made all of this much harder.

“Don’t. Yeah I’m sad that you felt that way I sorry and I hate everything that has ever happened to you. You just have to get used to it because I care about you. If I didn’t I wouldn’t feel this but I do and I know you hate that I pity you but I can’t help it okay. It doesn’t mean I see you as anything but perfect though. Okay?” John asked. It amazed Sherlock how John could see into his emotions and know just how he was feeling. It was John’s great deducing skill, understanding other people or an emotional level.

“Okay.” Sherlock acquiesced.

“ Good now I always want you to feel comfortable and that was why I put you to bed in your room but if you would like we can sleep in here from now on if that is something that will help you sleep better. And nothing about last night will make me see you as any less than you. I don’t care about your past all I care about is your present and your future. Now do you want to talk about that kiss I was promised or do you want to get up and have breakfast and maybe a shower first?”

“Talk, might as well not put it off. I know you must have questions.” Sherlock snuggled back into John’s embrace this time facing each other.

“So you have never been kissed?” John asked.

“Not that I remember,” Sherlock replied not meeting John’s gaze.

“It’s okay Sherlock. It’s a first we can have. Would that be something you would like?”

“Yes please John. I want to be able to give you something out of this relationship. You have given me so much and I always feel that you might be better off without me. Happier.” Sherlock confessed.

“Oh sweetheart you can’t think like that. You make me so happy just by being around. I would be happy with you if we never kissed let alone did anything else because I love you as a person, the whole package no matter what.” John ran his hands up and down Sherlock’s back in a comforting manner.

“I do want to kiss you John. I know we talked about attraction and I think I am attracted to you. It’s not something I have ever really felt and I wasn’t sure before but I am pretty sure that I want to kiss you and more.” Sherlock mumbled into John’s neck.

“Okay. That is… good. Yeah. Whenever you are ready for it Sherlock I’ll be here for whatever you need.” John’s breath sounded shaky and Sherlock could only attribute it to his lips against the skin of John’s neck, he smiled lightly at that thought.

“Can I kiss you now John?”

“If you want.” Sherlock lifted his head from where it was rested on John’s shoulder and came face to face with his boyfriend.

Sherlock catalogued John’s face, his expression the slight muscle spasm in his jaw which told of a tension that Sherlock found trouble finding a cause for. He cautiously leaning towards John and felt his mind go blissfully blank as he pressed his lips lightly against John’s. His eyes fluttered shut to better catalogue the feeling of John’s lips on his. It wasn’t at all how he expected a kiss to feel. He thought it would be wetter but it was perfect. John’s hands where cradling his face now as if he might just break and Sherlock felt a tear run down behind his closed eyes at just how perfect John was.

 


	10. Christmas and A Ball

John hated being home. He hated how his family would never accept him. He hated how he and his mother always fought. He hated how his sister blamed them for all her problems and he especially hated that when he was here he could not be himself. He was so thankful when he got shipped off to boarding school, it was the single best things they had ever done for him. His mother just kept telling him that his brilliant roommate should be making his grades better. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t doing well, in fact, he was getting really good grades. It just was never enough. He had to be so perfect because his sister was so… not.

He wished he could come out like she did at 15, run away with her girlfriend and drink her life away, but he couldn’t. He was the responsible one. The one who their mother relied upon and put all her hopes for a normal child in. It wasn’t as if he had a terrible childhood either until his father had died in Afghanistan. It had been normal and loving and perfect. Now their house was full of bad memories and a controlling presence which he could not wait to be rid of. He knew it was selfish but he just couldn’t help how he felt. He hated it here.

John’s mother couldn’t get time off this Christmas which John was immediately grateful for. He knew that Harry wasn’t coming home this year now she was in college with her new girlfriend and it would just be him and his mum. He liked having the house to himself, he could wander around it and spent most of the time watching Netflix while texting Sherlock. They had only seen each other 5 days ago but already John missed him.

They had kissed the night that his team had won their last footy match. It was the single most amazing yet heartbreaking things that he had ever experience. He knew their relationship with Sherlock would be hard. The guy was not only 2 years younger than him but extremely damaged, not that they like to use that word. It was just sometimes it weighed on John. He was a very hands on person and with Sherlock he couldn’t be. Sherlock was far too stubborn and bull-headed to listen to John and he didn’t want his help. Or at least didn’t know how to ask for it. John would never wish Sherlock to be different, but he did wish he could remove all the bad from his past.

~~~~

**I finally managed to get away from mother - SH 10:49am**

The text came in just as John was starting to think that Sherlock wasn’t going to be able to text today.

It happened like that. Days in which he couldn’t sneak away from his overbearing parents to send a message without their suspicions. Sherlock, as John quickly found out, had very strict, very old fashioned parents. They really didn’t tolerate Sherlock’s ‘nonsense’ at all. As much as John cringe to think of it Mycroft is the closest thing to a loving family Sherlock has.

**Are they really that bad? - JW 10:52 am**

**Yes John they really are. They think you will be a bad influence on me. They don’t really tolerate my homosexual tendencies well. - SH 10:58am**

**Oh. So they know but they don’t approve? That must be really hard - JW 11:01 am**

**I try very hard to avoid them really. They just are being rather over bearing this break. Usually they just let me stay in my room and do my experiments. - SH 11:07am**

**I wish I could make it better. What experiments have you got going this holidays? – JW 11:13 am**

This was a usually day for John. Lay around and text Sherlock about how annoying his family is and the experiments he is currently doing. John learnt more from those messages than all 12 years of science he had been forced to take.

They texted most of the day about Sherlock’s experiments or sometimes about their respective childhoods and families. When night fell they often talked about how much they missed each other. Sherlock told him that he slept better when John was there and didn’t like sleeping in his childhood bedroom at all. John would tell him that he would make it up to him when school had started up again. That he couldn’t wait to be able to hold Sherlock again.

~~~~

**Merry Christmas babe - JW 4:39 am**

John texted Sherlock the instant that he awoke on Christmas morning. It had started to know in the small town he lived in and everything was blanketed under a soft layer of snow. He loved Christmas because it was the one day that his mother didn’t care about anything other than the stressful task of cooking for her family. He was guiltily grateful that she didn’t have time to lecture him about his school or relationships.

**Why are you awake so early? - SH 4:52am**

Came Sherlock’s reply. John wasn’t really expecting it. He thought Sherlock would sleep in of Christmas. He didn’t celebrate the holidays anyway. He once said that his mother banned him from experimenting for a week after he refused to go to church claiming that it was full of bigoted people who only cared about themselves and their perception of goodness and that he didn’t want to be a part of it.

**It’s Christmas. You get up early because then you can unwrap presents earlier - JW 5:02 am**

**Oh. I got you a present - SH 5:03am**

**You really didn’t have to. I know you don’t celebrate Christmas - JW 5:05 am**

**But you do and I saw it and it made me think of you - SH 5:08 am**

**Okay love. I’ll text you later mum is about to pitch a fit. Merry Christmas sweetheart - JW  5:14 am**

~~~~

**Mother wants me to take a date to the ball - SH 3:15 pm**

It was a week until school reconvened for the semester and John had been excited to see Sherlock again. He really had missed his quirky nature and brilliance while he was with his mother. As excepted they saw hide nor hair of Harry this year and John spent his Christmas with his mother and several of his aunts who cooed over how grown up he was becoming.

Sherlock’s Christmas hadn’t been much better; Mycroft had spilled the beans about Sherlock’s trip to the hospital to their extended family. Sherlock spent the next two days locked in his room avoiding absolutely everyone. John had called that night and Sherlock had actually cried while on the phone to him. John yearned to make his boyfriends life a little better.

The news that Sherlock’s family had a winter Ball happening didn’t surprise John at all. They were that posh sort who did fancy things like Balls and Galas. John felt a little sorry for Sherlock who would be bored out of his mind during the entire thing. Sherlock had once told him when he was 6 he had deduced all the guests and made several women cry in an effort for his mother to make him stop going. It hadn’t worked, it did however get his chemistry set taken from him.

**A date? - JW 3:37 pm**

**She told me that if I couldn’t find a suitable person for tomorrow she would provide one for me. - SH 3:43 pm**

**What are you going to do? - JW 3:51 pm**

**We it doesn’t really matter; anyone I choose will be deemed unsuitable. I’ll just have to put up with whichever eligible women she sticks me with - SH 3:56 pm**

**I wish they weren’t so horrible to you Sherlock. I wish they could see how amazing you are. - JW 4:08 pm**

**Thank you John - SH 4:21 pm**

~~~~~

John had been whisked away by his mother on the Saturday before school started back, in her opinion he should be dressing better if he was to live in the prestigious Baker Hall. She just wouldn’t heed his protests that Sherlock really didn’t care what he wore. He was sure Sherlock quite enjoyed Johns insistence in wearing rugby attire at home. So here John was, on the day he should have been comforting Sherlock for the upcoming Ball that night, trudging after his mother as she flounced through shop after shop trying to make John look presentable. This involved a lot of frumpy jumpers which John thought made him look like an old man.  

It wasn’t until the late afternoon that John got home and could check his phone. He had left it at home much to his unwillingness.

14 messages

3 missed calls

1 voicemail

Sherlock must have been trying to get in touch with him. IT broke Johns Heart a little as he read the messages. He hadn’t meant to leave Sherlock for so long especially on a day like today. He knew his genius boyfriend would need a little reassurance.

 

**Mother introduced me to my date this morning. She was very happy I wasn’t able to find someone. - SH 10:46 am**

**Her name is Megan she is your age. She goes to al all girls catholic school. She is boring. - SH 10:48 am**

**Mother has asked her to stay the night after the ball. - SH 11:02 am**

**I told mother I didn’t want to go. Again - SH 11:38 am**

**She made me help the staff clean the halls - SH 12:22 pm**

**John? - SH 12:34 pm**

**You have missed a call from Lock xx. They did not leave a message – 1:15 pm**

**Have I done something wrong? - SH 1:20 pm**

**I know I’ve been complaining about this date. - SH 1:22 pm**

**I won’t now - SH 1:25 pm**

**I know it must be boring you - SH 1:28 pm**

**I’m sorry - SH 1:42 pm**

**You have missed a call from Lock xx. They did not leave a message – 2:13 pm**

**You have missed a call from Lock xx.– 3:45 pm**

**You have received a voice message from Lock xx at 4:21 pm – 4:22pm**

_“I’m really sorry John. I didn’t mean to be so annoying. You shouldn’t have to put up with me. *sniff* I miss you. (delay) I’m sorry…” end of voice message_

**I’m ready for the ball now - SH 4:35 pm**

**It starts soon. I won’t be able to take my phone in. I know you aren’t replying but texting you is making me feel a little better. I’m not even sure why I‘m nervous. I just hate these things. I don’t see why I should have to be here. - SH 4:47 pm**

**I’m going now. I’ll text you later - SH 4:53 pm**

~~~~

**HEY Sherlock I’m sorry mum wanted to go shopping and you know how suspicious she is already. So she made me leave my phone at home. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you. I’m not bored by you talking about the ball. You are the most interesting thing in my life. I don’t put up with you love. I get the opportunity to be your boyfriend and that is more than I could ever ask for. I know you won’t read this till later. But I love you sweetheart. - JW 5:41 pm**

 

John felt terrible. He knew how fragile Sherlock could be especially about their relationship and his feelings in general. John vowed to stay up and wait for the ball the finish so he could call Sherlock and apologise properly.

John put the clothes his mother had bought him in his suit case, which he had packed several days ago including Sherlock’s present. He needed a distraction form waiting around for the ball the finish and Sherlock to text him back so he put on his favourite James bond movies, turned all the lights off and snuggled up into bed.

John was woken hours later by his phone ringing. The title screen of the Bond movie was still playing on his laptop as he scrambled through his bedding looking for his phone.

“’ello?”

“J-john.” Sherlock’s voice sounded small.

“Hey love. How was the ball,” John closed the laptop and placed it off the side of his bed.

“I… It… I’m sorry,” Sherlock’s voice broke and was barely audible over the phone.

“What’s wrong love? If this is about earlier I’m really sorry.” John felt his heart clench, he had a bad feeling.

“Victor’s here.” And with those two words John’s blood ran cold.

“Why? Are you okay? He didn’t…” John couldn’t finish the sentence.

“He tried to… I’m sorry. I’ve done something bad. I didn’t mean to. I just was so out of control and I thought you wouldn’t want to talk to me and I did it and then I read your message and now I feel even worse. I’m so sorry John I didn’t mean to.” Sherlock broke off in sobs.

“It’s alright love. Whatever you did it’s all alright. We can fix this. I’ll see you tomorrow night. I’ll make it all better. I promise. There is nothing to be sorry for. I’m going to make everything okay.” John used a soothing voice. The same one he used after Sherlock’s nightmares to remind Sherlock he was safe.

“I love you John.” Sherlock whispered.

“Love you too sweetheart. Now why don’t you get in your pyjamas and lock your door and get into bed and we can go to sleep together just like back at Baker Hall.” John told him.

“Okay John. I’ll be back in a sec.” John sighed in relief. He sounded a little closer to normal. Maybe still a little insecure but more like the genius he knew and loved.

“I’m back now. I locked the door like you said. I’m under the covers now. I miss you. It isn’t something that I’m used to. Like my chest hurts when I think of you and the thought of your presence makes me happy. I’m sorry about today. I was being a brat.” Sherlock whispered.

“Oh love you were just worried. It’s understandable. I’m always going to be here. You won’t get rid of me that easily.” John chuckled.

“I think I like the sound of that. Will you keep talking to me while I fall asleep? Tell me about your day.” Sherlock requested.

John proceeded to tell Sherlock about his shopping adventures, in-between giving him reassurance that he was loved and that John could not wait to see him the next day. John stayed on the phone for a while after Sherlock had stopped replying just listening to his light snores. It had been a drastic day and he knew that they would have a lot of things to talk about tomorrow but for now he was content to just be there for his boyfriend. To bring him a little peace.


	11. Back at Baker Hall

John’s POV:

The train back to London was late the next afternoon. His taxi driver got lost twice and by the time John arrived at Baker Hall it was well and truly past tea time. John let himself in, glad to be back . When he got up to 221B he stopped and steeled himself for what was to come. He couldn’t help but worry what Sherlock had done to himself. He knew he had probably used a blade again. He hadn’t since John moved in and made him get rid of his.

He turned the door handle to see his boyfriend sitting up at their kitchen counter looking through his microscope at something on the slides. The arms of his button up had been rolled up to his elbows and thick bandages adorned both his arms. His right just around the wrist but his left going almost all the way up to his elbow.

“It’s nice to see that some things never change Lock’.” John said dropping his bags and announcing his presence to the oblivious Sherlock.

“You’re back!” the childlikeness in Sherlock’s voice made John smile. John watched as Sherlock dropped whatever experiment he was doing not even caring if he broke the order and rushed over to John all but throwing himself into John’s arms.

“Yeah, of course, I’m back. I’ve missed you so much, baby.” John whispered into Sherlock’s hair. They usually weren’t this physical, they hugged and kissed and cuddled but Sherlock rarely wrapped himself around John like this and he was determined to savour every minute of it.

“I did something bad,” Sherlock said into John’s neck.

“I know I saw, it’s okay do you want to cuddle on the couch and tell me all about it and then I’ll make us some cocoa.” John said leading Sherlock over and sitting on the couch allowing him to decide how close he wants to be. To his surprise, Sherlock gets onto his lap and curls himself up small his head resting in the dip of John’s neck.

“Start from the beginning. I’m not going to be mad at you I promise. You can tell me everything and I’ll be here to protect you. I promise.” John just cradled Sherlock in his arms and rested his cheek on the top of the other boys head.

“Well, I was already kinda upset when the ball started. I had to dance with this insufferable girl and I hated it. But then I saw him. I didn’t even know mother knew his family but his father was there. He was there. I haven’t seen Victor in so long John.  He hasn’t even changed that much. He’s older now, wears a suit. I’d almost forgotten and my skin started to get itchy and I felt like I needed a hit but I couldn’t because I promised I wouldn’t. I need to be better than that for you,” Sherlock said, not as a question or a rambling just as a fact. Like it was something that was unshakable. John just stroked up and down his arm and laid a soft kiss to his hair, encouraging him to continue.

“I tried to avoid him and go about what mother wanted me to do. I said smart stuff to Mycroft’s business associates and acted like a gentleman for my ‘date’. But I slipped away early. My date had found someone more interesting than me to dance with and I saw my chance to go back to my room unnoticed but I was in a side hallway and Victor was there.” Sherlock shuddered and John could hear the beginnings of tears in his voice.

“What did he do babe.” Wrapping his arms tighter around Sherlock’s smaller figure.

“He asked if I wanted a hit. He had cocaine with him. Why I don’t know, maybe he was still using and I told him I couldn’t because I had a boyfriend and he didn’t want me to use anymore and he laughed at me. He said no one would want me if it wasn’t for a hole to fuck,” Sherlock choked and his started sobbing curling up tighter, his hands gripping tightly to John’s grey sweatshirt.

“He touched me. I didn’t want him to. A drunk guy came down the hall and he stopped. I ran away to my room. I didn’t think you wanted to talk and I went straight to the bathroom and locked myself in. I started on my right arm, but I’m better with my right hand so I cut my left arm but I cut a little too deep. I didn’t know who else to call so I was going to ask you for help and I saw your messages and then I felt so bad. I know you hate them. I didn’t mean to. I know their ugly and you hate them.”

“Shush now sweetheart. I love you so much and I think you are so brave, darling. I hate when you cut because it’s hurting you, not because your scars are ugly not because I think any less of you. I just never want to see you hurt again okay?” Joh said forcing Sherlock to look at him through watery eyes.

“I love you so much, Sherlock.” John whispered brushing his lips across Sherlock’s brow.

“Love you too John.” Sherlock gave him a watery smile. They stayed there cuddled up on the couch for a few minutes just letting Sherlock calm his breathing and John absorb Sherlock’s warmth.

“Now about that cocoa?” John reminded his cute little boyfriend. Hopefully, that would distract him enough from his troubles. 

“Okay. I have to finish the experiment anyway. I’m sorting out dust molecules relative to the environment.” Sherlock said looking a little more perked up than he had moments before.

“Well you finish up and I’ll make us some cocoa and we can drink it in bed.” John suggested and watched as Sherlock’s eyes lit up. Usually, John never allowed food or drink in bed. He hated washing and he knew Sherlock sure as hell wouldn’t clean the sheet if he spilt something.

John went about busying himself with warming up the milk on the stove and adding the cocoa to it when it was hot. He stirred them quietly as he watched Sherlock’s brows furrow as he looked through the slides. John popped three marshmallows into each cup and brought one over to Sherlock.

“Almost done love?” John asked knowing how Sherlock always underestimated how long his experiments took.

“5 more minutes.” Sherlock whined ever the child.

“Okay, Lock’. I’ll be in our bed waiting okay?” John kissed the side of Sherlock’s head whine he got a grunt in response and mad his way to their bedroom. Sherlock sometimes still slept in his bed when he was up late experimenting and didn’t want to risk waking John but they did spend most nights curled up against one another in John’s room.

~~~~

They had class the next day and everyone seemed to have gained some enthusiasm after the Christmas break school was almost over only a few more months and they were done. John could feel the excitement in the air and since the footy season was over he had more free time to spend with Sherlock and start applying for Universities.

He still met by their usual tree for lunch with the footy lads. As much as John had missed Sherlock he had also missed his friends while he was home for the holidays. Jason and Kohl were obviously very happy to be back and shared in explicit detail with John what they had gotten up to the first night back in their dorm. Sherlock just chuckled as he dropped down next to John and laid his head on his shoulder so John would run his fingers through his hair.

“So what did John get you for Christmas,” Haden asked, reminding John that he indeed did have a present for Sherlock that was still perfectly wrapped pack away in his luggage which he neglected to unpack last night while he cuddled with Sherlock.

“I wouldn’t know he… forgot to give it to me,” Sherlock said in a way John could only assume was coy.

‘’I bet he did,” Jason detaches his lips from Kohl’s neck long enough to leer in their direction.

“I got in late that’s all and I forgot okay. Stop being a bunch of pervs.” John’s ears were red.

~~~~

Later that evening while they were both in their pyjamas in front of a fire They really did exchange presents. John sat there and watched Sherlock’s face turn from concentration to confusion to joy as he unwraps the plush toy. It was a medium sized bear with brown fur wearing a black hoody with a skeleton print on it.

“I know you told me that you were really allowed toys like that as a child. I thought maybe you could have something to cuddle when I’m not here.” John explained. It seemed like a silly gift now that he was face to face with his boyfriend.

“I love it, John.” Sherlock said crawling into his boyfriends lap the bear between them and hugging him tight.

“Now it’s my turn,” Sherlock said handing over a small gift wrapped box.

John carefully unwrapped the formal looking gift wrap and took out the velvet box within. HE hands shook slightly as he slowly opened the elongated box and saw what was inside. A set of silver dog tags sat on a soft satin cushion.  They were even engraved with John’s name.

“I know you already have your dads but I thought that until you go to the army you will have your own to keep you safe.” Sherlock explained clutching his new toy to his chest and looking innocently up at John from his place in Johns lap.

“I love them.” John simply said kissing Sherlock sweetly on the brow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely happy with this chapter.   
> Thinking that there is going to be a reconnection with Mycroft some badass Mrs. Hudson and more cases coming up. Thoughts are always appreciated and thanking you all for sticking with this fic and my atrocious time management skills.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new case arises and causes some tension between Sherlock and John that can only be exacerbated by the untimely arrival of Mycroft. Also slightly BAMF!Mrs Hudson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for sticking with this. I have no excuses besides obvious life and mental health stuff. Thank you for keeping with this and enjoying my writting.

John’s POV:

John wakes up one morning to Sherlock jumping on him like a child would their parent. It was a lovely sight to see his young boyfriend so carefree. The past weeks after Christmas break had been hard on both of them. Sherlock had been much quieter and clingier than he was previously. The quietness didn’t last long and soon the deduction flew just the same as always. The clinginess changed to a sort of physical affection and now John often found himself holding hand with Sherlock as they sat with the footy lads for lunch or went out, kisses to his cheek, neck and the corners of his mouth while they cuddled. It was nice the attention he was getting from his boyfriend and that Sherlock was letting him show more affection as well, but he wondered if it was worth what Sherlock had been through.

“Get up John. We have a case,” Sherlock had gotten off the bed and was retreating to his own room presumably to get changed.

“I’m up,” John grumbled to the now empty room.

By the time, he had made his way to the living room fully dressed, Sherlock was swirling out of his bedroom great coat on looking for all the world like the impressive detached detective he aspired to be. The moment was broken as soon as he laid eyes on John and a warm smile graced his lips.

“Come on John. There’s been a murder,” Sherlock looked far to enthused for someone having died but even John couldn’t deny the thrill that he got from watching Sherlock deduce.

“Okay can I at least have tea,” John asked knowing how his boyfriend got.

“Only if it’s to go,” Sherlock sighed but the fond smile he gave John told him there was no malice there.

 

Sherlock’s POV:

As Sherlock marched onto the crime scene, a tapped off coffee shop, every eye turned to him. It was the usual reaction form the yarders when he was asked to consult for them. However, this time they lingered. He realised a moment too late his fingers were still intertwined with John’s. Sherlock felt John squeeze his fingers once before he pulled his hand away but he kept himself close enough that Sherlock could still feel his presence as he walked up to Lestrade to ask about the murder.

The victim was a teenage girl probably his age maybe younger. She was wearing the uniform of the bakery but it was obvious by the way the head baker, also the bakery owner, was looking shocked and a little green she was not supposed to be in this morning. The head baker, was running late this morning probably from the morning shag he had recently partook in, Sherlock’s brain helpfully added. _Slightly mussed hair, just forming love bite_.

“What do you think John?” He didn’t necessarily need John’s opinion but he liked to know what he was thinking.

“obviously not killed here, there isn’t enough blood and judging by where the stab wounds are it’s not like she bled out quickly.

“You’re quite right John,” Lestrade said startling Sherlock who had forgotten that the detective inspector was there while he watched John bend over to examine the victim.

“Ah. Good.” Sherlock went over to the victim and bent down to examine her more closely. She was relatively attractive and there was a faded hickey just above her collar bone. Sexually active if Sherlock had to guess but more evidence would be needed like a coroner’s report. There were some stray hairs on her body black so not hers too short anyway possible from the killer, or her lover. _Or both_. Sherlock looked around the room. Nothing was out of place the door wasn’t forced and she was clearly dragged in through the back entrance. _Dust settling patters._

“Can I speak to the owner?” Sherlock directed the question at Lestrade but he was already in the motion towards the door he saw Donovan and Anderson take the cheating bakery owner.

“Go watch him will you John,” was Lestrade’s weary reply.

Sherlock steeled himself as he entered the back room of the little bakery where Donovan and Anderson were interviewing the ‘witness’. Sherlock had yet to prove his innocence.

“I would like to talk to him,” Sherlock insisted. He tried to act his most detached and professional. Sally just scoffed and waved her hand as if to say go ahead.

“Does the victim work for you,” Sherlock asked a banal question which he already knew the answer to. His eyes flicked across the man from head to toe. He didn’t seem nervous and had no signs of a tell. His hair was also greying and looked wiry which was not the case for the hair found on the victim. Possibly he had hair like that found on the victim in his youth. Does he have a son?

The man had given him a stuttering answer about how pleasant and lovely the girl was to work with and how she was saving up to go to college in London.

“How does your son feel about her?” Sherlock pressed.

“Why is that important?” So, he does have a son very interesting. Possible an illicit relationship between the pair.

“I just figured since his girlfriend is dead it would be prudent to know if they had had an argument recently but I can see you didn’t know about that.” Sherlock looked past the man his mind whirling. _He was 67% sure it was the son now._

Sherlock left the man to blubber to the two idiots and as he turned away from them he almost walked straight into John.

“What was that for?” John hissed at him. He just looked blankly at him.

“That man is obviously upset Sherlock. You could at least try to be a little less heartless,” John turned and walked back through the crime scene and out of the building.

Was he heartless? Sherlock pondered that as he walked Lestrade through his deductions slowly. He was even polite when he asked for the case file once it was written up so he could go over crime scene photos to eliminate theories.

“You can come talk to the son tomorrow,” Lestrade finished giving Sherlock a tight smile noticing how his attention was on the door that John had left through.

John didn’t speak to him that evening. He retired to his own bedroom and closing the door and audibly locking it. Sherlock was certain that John was upset at him. Upset that he didn’t feel sorry for the dead girl. Maybe John had known her, maybe it was just because of how young she was or that she had a future planned. John was sentimental about things like that.

Sherlock was restless all night, not able to sleep as he looked over the case files, Lestrade had dropped by, and organised them in his mind. He had eliminated a few more options that seemed rather ridiculous now that he had gone over the information again.

The sun rose on a new day and Sherlock pondered whether to apologise to John as he heard the shower turn on and the sound of water falling onto Johns skin. John must be in a better mood this morning as he was humming in the shower. Sherlock would make John tea; he can’t go wrong with tea.

“Morning John,” Sherlock said as John shuffled into their kitchen dressed for the day. “I made tea,” Sherlock said his voice tinged with apprehension and he hopped that John liked his little peace offering.

“Thank you darling,” John said accepting the tea and pressed a kiss to Sherlock’s cheek.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be insensitive.” Sherlock emphasised. He hated apologising and hoped that Mycroft hadn’t debugged their apartment since last time he removed them because he would flat out deny to ever apologising.

“Oh Lock’. I’m sorry too. It was a stupid thing to be mad about. I know you aren’t heartless.” John embraced him and Sherlock held him tightly. Even thought it was only a night he missed the feeling of being in John’s arms.

“So, how’s the case?” John mused still staying within touching distance of Sherlock as he sipped his tea.  

“Well I’m pretty sure the son is the murderer but I won’t be sure until I see him today.”

It was later that day that Sherlock dragged John into Scotland Yard to ‘interrogate’ the witness. Sherlock doesn’t like that word because it implies that intimidation is used where he simply asks them questions and deduces the truth.

The baker’s son had been brought into a room for questioning and Lestrade told him that he seemed upset about the whole ordeal and had told them that he was in a secret relationship with the deceased girl.

Sherlock steeled himself and put on his best consulting detective face before entering the room with the son. He was not older than 19. _Black hair, like those found on the body, his mouth the right shape to have made the bruises on her neck. Hands calloused with tiny burns on his forearms from helping his father in the bakery. His face pulled into a sad forlorn expression, tears were on his face, but his eyes told a story all their own, there wasn’t enough wrinkles around his eyes to be truly sad and instead of them resting solemnly on a spot they flicked agitatedly around the room from time to time._

“Who the hell are you. The police aren’t employing kids now. My girlfriend has just died.” The son exclaimed. Sherlock just cocked his head to the side and pondered if speaking now would get him further than silence would.

“How did your father feel about your relationship with the deceased?” Sherlock asked taking a seat across from the son.

“He didn’t know and he wasn’t going to know until after she had gone away to college. We had it all planned we were going to wait till she didn’t work for us anymore.” The son rubbed his right thumb over the inside of the other hands palm, a sure tell.

“So, you were mad when she told you she was going to tell your father about your relationship?” Sherlock asked rapidly in a clam voice.

“Yes… I mean she wasn’t.” The son’s eyes widened and he knew that he had been caught.

“Why did you kill your girlfriend?” Sherlock asked in the same calm voice and the son broke.

“I didn’t mean to she just said she was doing to tell da about us and I snapped. We had made a promise not to and I knew he was going to be mad. I’m not good enough for her and he treated her like his own child. I just didn’t want anything to spoil what we have and the next thing I know she’s on the floor and bleedin’ and I don’t know what to do.” The son broke down crying his head in his hands.

Sherlock and John leave the station sometime later after doing some paperwork that Sherlock almost refused to do on principle until John promised a warm cup of tea and a cuddle as incentive.

Sherlock was in high spirits by the time they made it back to Baker hall but they were suddenly dashed when he says a familiar black SUV parked in the visitors parking. What could his brother want now.

They entered Baker hall cautiously and heard voices coming from Mrs Hudson’s little apartment on the first floor.

“I’ll have you know that John has been such a good influence on Sherlock I don’t know why you don’t like the boy. He has been nothing but kind, making sure Sherlock has breakfast and dinner every day and stopping people from bullying him. Tell him he is the most intelligent person he’s ever seen and you can tell how much that means to Sherlock. Why do you want them apart?” Mrs Hudson’s raised voice could be heard from just outside the door. A lower murmur sounded before Mrs Hudson laughed. Sherlock moved closer to John letting him wrap his arm around him comfortingly.

“Oh, honey were you never 16. Who cares if they sleep together. Mind you I know what kind of a school this is but if those boys want to be together let them, they aren’t hurting nobody.” John kissed Sherlock on the side of the head as they listened more closely.

“Well, I’ll just have to go and see for myself,” Mycroft’s disembodied voice could be heard from the other side of the door and John and Sherlock barely had time to step back before it was opened and Mycroft appeared in front of them.

“Ah just the two people I had been meaning to see.” He said his eyes bellying that it was not at all going to be a pleasant visit.

 “Aren’t you going to invite your brother up for a cup of tea.” Mycroft prompted.

“Not bloody likely,” Sherlock muttered under his breath.

“Come on, it’s only for a cup of tea and then I promise you can kick him out.” John intervened before either brother could say something they might regret.

Sherlock was settled in one of the armchairs that adorned their living room. One of his ankles crossed over the knee of the other leg. A look of distain upon his face. He waited for Mycroft to speak as John went about making them tea.

“I see you two have settled in nicely.” Mycroft’s gaze flicked over the room and Sherlock knew he was deducing things.

“Yes, it’s quite nice having John here.” Sherlock said, hoping his brother understood the inference.

“Yes, well it has been made apparent that he is good for you,” Mycroft’s nose twitched in what Sherlock knew was displeasure.

“If I didn’t know better I would say you wanted me to fail. Nothing for you to look after once I’m clean and have my life together is there brother dearest.” Sherlock scoffed. And watched as John brought in a tray of tea, handing Sherlock his but leaving Mycroft’s in arms reach before sitting on the sofa in silence. Content to watch the conversation.

“I only mean what’s best for you Sherlock. I thought what I was doing was the right thing for you to see that you don’t need the sentiment to be happy, but maybe I was wrong.” Mycroft’s tone was calm and controlled as he took a sip of tea; but Sherlock noticed the twitch in his right eye, his tell.

“I quite like my ‘sentiment’ thank you brother.” His gaze moved to John briefly.

“Yes quite.” Mycroft was silent for a moment and that silence conveyed more sincerity than the last 5 years of meddling ever had.

“Was there anything else you needed brother? I do have homework to be doing.” Not technically a lie he did need to complete it but he doubted it would take long.

“Perhaps you mean you need to help John do his.”

“Perhaps,” Sherlock watched his brother leave a pensive look on his face.

“That was almost civilised?” John remarked.

“Yes, it was.” Sherlock turned to the other boy. He wasn’t quite sure what made his brother change his mind but he was sorry that much Sherlock could tell. In his own silent way, he knew his brother wanted his forgiveness.

“Are you going to forgive him?” Sherlock was a bit surprised that John had picked up on that.

“Possibly. Only time will tell. He is my brother after all.” He got up and went to were John was seated on the sofa and tucked himself into his side for that cuddle he was promised some hours earlier.


	13. But I Made Tea?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets frustrated at Sherlock. Sherlock doesn't understand. When will my boys ever just get there shit together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like this new chapter. This story is finally going somewhere and I have found some sort of direction so hopefully, more will come soon.

Sherlock’s POV

The weeks following Mycroft’s visit went by quickly and Sherlock was almost able to forget about it but as the school curriculum failed to hold his attention for long and he had been removed from yet another chemistry class by a second-rate teacher which wouldn’t know an experiment if it blew up in his face, which conveniently Sherlock’s did. Sherlock was getting agitated and since John wanted to get into medical school and apply for the army reserve once his year was over he couldn’t always entertain Sherlocks bored antics.

On one such evening found Sherlock was bouncing a ball against the ceiling of his bedroom while John studied for his biology exam. Boring if you asked Sherlock. He was bored, he needed something to occupy his racing mind. Drugs is the first things that comes to mind, force of habit, but John would hate him. A case comes next but Lestrade had told him to stop calling yesterday, after he called Lestrade 4 times, and that he would call Sherlock if there was a case. John was the third and most convenient thing to occupy him but he was closed off in his room with his stupid text books trying to study.

“Bored,” Sherlock complained out loud. Maybe he could just go and see if John wants a break. That seemed reasonable, maybe make him some tea. Yes, tea always made John happier, that’s what he would do. John wouldn’t be mad if the interruption involved tea.  

Sherlock skipped off to the kitchen to prepare tea. He balanced the cup in one hand as he slowly made his way to John’s bedroom. He cautiously opened the door to the image of his boyfriend sprawled across the covers of the bed not 8 hours ago, they had shared with text books and notes surrounding him.

“I made tea.” Sherlock announced himself to his unsuspecting partner. John looked up, eyes wide with a quick intake of breath. Surprised Sherlock’s brain helpfully added.

“Sherlock.  I told you I’m studying for Biology. I need to get an A if I want to get into med school. Could you for a few hours just bugger off and leave me alone.” John fumed, Sherlock was unsure how to continue because he had made tea and that always made John not mad at him.

“But I made tea.” Sherlock pushed.

“Well good for fucking you. Geez Sherlock. Don’t you dare say you’re bored. If I can’t get any peace and quiet here I might as well go to the library and don’t dare think about following me.” John grabbed his bag from the floor and stuffed his school books and notes into it ignoring Sherlock’s look of horror.

He was so sure the tea would have worked. Maybe he had underestimated how stressed John was. He had seemed fine thus far. Could it be that he was having second thoughts? Was Sherlock being to clingy, annoying cantankerous. Would John be coming back? Sherlock barely registered when John pushed him aside to exit the room only the pain of the hot tea splashing over his hand brought him back to the present.

Sherlock sank to the floor as he heard the door to their dorm slam. John was mad at him, properly mad. “but I made you tea?” It was illogical John had left he couldn’t hear him anyway but he felt that he had to justify his presence, justify himself.

Sherlock wished he couldn’t tell how long he sat on the cold floor of John’s room but his internal clock told him it had been 56 minutes since John left. He should move, John had to come back eventually unless he slept over Haden’s. Oh god, what if he didn’t come back. Sherlock made his legs move, up off the floor into the living room before he flops onto the couch in a black sulk, cradling his burnt hand to his chest. The tea cup left forgotten next to John’s bed its contents slowly seeping into the carpet.

John’s POV:

God Sherlock was so annoying. Couldn’t he be a little more sensitive to John’s feelings. The stupid git just wanted all the attention to himself and couldn’t deal that John wanted to focus on study. John was fuming as he stomped into the library and was immediately shushed by the librarian on duty. He laid out his biology books and tried to concentrate. This exam was important and worth almost a third of his semesters grade.

He had been there barely 20 minutes when he dropped his pen onto the book and pressed his head to the table. He couldn’t concentrate, it was useless. His anger at Sherlock had dissipated and now irritation was just simmering below the surface. He was agitated and jittery and his mind just wouldn’t focus on how the capillaries in the lungs distribute oxygen. He promised himself that he would soldier on for another hour and a half and then he would go back and deal with the inevitable sulk that Sherlock was in back at Baker hall.

That hour and a half passed in slowly irritating increments and when he finally sat back and gave up trying to study he found he had accomplished reading a mere 3 pages of the chapter on lung function. He decided that he wouldn’t get anything done unless he got his irritation with Sherlock sorted out. He was still mad yes, He still wished his boyfriend could understand that not everyone had his enormous intellect and had to work for the grades they got. He stuffed his books back into his bad and trudged out of the library to realise night had fallen.

~~~~

The lights were all off when John returned to their dorm room. He rolled his eyes at Sherlocks dramatics. Of course, he was too high strung to even turn the lights on. John had to feel his way into the room dropping his heavy bag by the door and felt around for the light switch. When the yellow light illuminated the entranceway, and living room his eyes immediately fell to the couch where he could see the shape of his boyfriend curled up there.

As he made his way further into the room he could see that Sherlock was curled cradling one of his hands to his chest a rather angry red mark on the back of his hand and down his wrist where still healing cuts were. Sherlock curled further into himself at John’s scrutiny, he hadn’t realised the other boy was awake. He now noticed the slight blotches of colour around Sherlocks eyes that he had only seen the mornings after nightmares of the first night he returned from Christmas break and Sherlock cried in his arms. John felt the anger ebb away and a new understanding of the boy in front of him take its place. God, he was an idiot.

“We need to talk Sherlock,” John said tyring to sound calm and soothing.

“Your leaving aren’t you.” Sherlock sniffled sadly.

“No. Baby of course not. It just what couples do after they fight. They talk about it.” John told him. He often forgot just how much Sherlock didn’t understand how to be in a relationship and what the convention and expectations were. “You know the old expression kiss and make up.” He tried to joke a little.

“Okay,” he watched as Sherlock sat up a little on the couch still holding his had funnily. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for love,” John reassured him kneeling beside him on the couch, leaving a space between them.

“You were mad. That means I did something wrong.”

“I hate that you think that. I’m just stressed out about exams coming up and I took that out on you. I was being the bad boyfriend not you.” John tried to explain.

“But I brought you tea.”

“What?” John had no idea what Sherlock was on about. Sherlock just huffed a bit

“I brought you tea. You’re never mad when I bring you tea. So, I brought you tea and you yelled at me.” Sherlock was again close to tears. “I don’t understand John, I brought you tea.” It was such a simple thing that coming from anyone else the act of bring John tea would have been easily discounted but for Sherlock it was a little sign that he cared. Sherlock refused to do anything that resembled cooking or cleaning and as soon as John arrived in his life tea making had fallen under that bracket.

“Oh love. I’m sorry.” He bundled his boyfriend into his arms and let his tears wet the shoulder of his jumper.

“How about we look at your hand hmmm?” He asked after Sherlock had quietened down and they were just holding each other.

“It’s nothing. Just splashed myself with the tea.” Sherlock mumbled into Johns shoulder.

“Did you run it under cold water?” John asked.

“No.” Came a familiar haughty response that made John smile despite himself.

“Come on I’ll put some aloe Vera on it and wrap it in some gauze.” John urged Sherlock off his lap and into the kitchen which still had a rather unsightly experiment covering the counter.

They sat in silence as John got out the med kit and found the things he needed. He carefully cleaned Sherlock’s hand in the sink running it under some cold water just to be safe, but he knew the damage was done it had happened hours ago. He gently soothed some aloe onto the burn and loosely wrapped the hand in soft bandaged.

“How’s that feel? Hurt a bit less?” John asked.

“You know you’re not a real doctor.” Sherlock teased.

“yeah alright but answer the question.” John insisted, happy that they were back to teasing each other.

“Yes John. You did an admirable job healing my wounds.” Sherlock chuckled and they fell back into a silence.

“Why don’t you get your teddy and we go cuddle hmm? Maybe we can even find a nature documentary on Netflix to watch.”

“His name is Dr. Robert Boyle Bearington John.” Sherlock complained sounding every part the child he sometimes was.

“Okay, go get Dr. Robert Boyle Bearington and let’s watch some Netflix and cuddle.” John said.

Once situated John propped against their pillow with Sherlock curled up beside him Dr Bearington tucked securely in his injured hand, his un injured hand lightly stroking Johns chest.

“Is this the part where we kiss and make up.” John looked down at him and smiled.

“Only if you want to,” he told him. Glad that Sherlock was feeling better and surprised to notice he was no longer stressed about the upcoming exams.

Sherlock leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to Johns lips before snuggling back against his chest letting his eyes focus back on the documentary.

“All better.” John breathed his hand carding through his boyfriend’s hair.

~~~~

The next day there was a knock at their door which was unusual in itself because Mrs Hudson would not have waited for them to answer and well no one would visit them.

“Just answer it or you’ll never know,” Sherlock yelled from the kitchen where he was perched doing experiments. Typical.

“Oh, like you know who it is without answering the door.” John yelled back.

“Well we will never know if I’m right or not if you don’t answer it.” Sherlock yelled again. John rolled his eyes at his presumptuous boyfriend and got up from where he was reading over his biology text again to answer the door.

Detective Inspector Lestrade was on the other side with a knowing smile on his face and a large box in his arms.

“I heard that he’s been giving you trouble,” Lestrade said carrying the box in and putting it down next to the armchair that John usually used.

“How did you know?” John wondered aloud.

“Obvious. Mycroft told him.” Sherlock said coming into the room. “What is it,” he tilted his head to indicate the box in question.

“Just some cold cases. Stuff the NSY couldn’t solve; so, I’m sure the great mind of Sherlock Holmes can figure them out.” Lestrade told him.

“Well John don’t just stand there, we have a guest make tea.” John was about to scold Sherlock and tell him to make his own tea when Lestrade spoke up.

“Oh, that won’t be necessary. I have an appointment to keep.” Lestrade was already backtracking towards the door.

“Ah I see. I won’t tell mummy if that’s what he’s worried about.” Sherlock said slyly.

“Yes, I would hope not,’ Lestrade left without saying goodbye.

“What was that about?” John asked.

“Oh, Lestrade finally asked Mycroft out.” Sherlock said flippantly already shifting through the boxes.

“WHAT?” John felt his knee’s buckle a little in shock.

“It’s been a long time coming. Mycroft always refused to think about it because he needed Graham to keep me clean but now I have you they can finally try. The tensions been horrendous for months now. Mummy won’t be pleased when she finds out. Best not mention it.” Sherlock had a case out and was flipping through photos of a gruesome murder rather uninterested in the new and unnerving information he had just told John.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading please give a kudos if you like it :)


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